Second Wind
by Calore
Summary: Fang has saved Cocoon—unwillingly—and wakes to find a changed world and that there is no hero's welcome for her in the way she'd like. Post-game.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Second Wind**

**Chapter One**

_Oerba Yun Fang opens her eyes and the first thing she sees is crystal. Blue crystal, blue enough that it looks like ice._

_She's immediately reminded of Lake Bresha after Anima, in its death throes, crystallized the waters and everything else in it. She can't help but smirk, just a little; fal'Cie were just like children, always wanting to have the last word._

_Then she becomes aware of the dull pain in her side and lower back. She tries to sit up, but her shoulders won't let her. She frowns and tries again, tensing her abdomen and pushing with her arms. She manages, after a few labored moments and a second of panic-is she so badly wounded that she didn't notice it?-to get herself upright. She surveys her surroundings and is not surprised to find herself in an unrecognizable place._

_It happens entirely too often._

_She's in a cavern, a very large cavern that's at least a hundred yards in length and width and entirely covered with, or made of, crystal. Not ice, she thinks. Even the floor's covered in it, but it isn't cold or wet, at least._

_She shifts her hand to the injured spot and is relieved to find that it isn't bloody. She presses a little too hard and hisses; a bad bruise, then. She glances at the immediate area around her and finds shards of broken crystal around her; a small miracle that she didn't get gored on a sharp one. Six feet from her is a thick column that reaches from floor to the ceiling, also made of crystal. She glances up and sees the twin craters forming from the center, with cracks spidering from the jagged edges._

_Her hand falls on something round and smooth and she knows immediately what it is. Using her lance as walking stick, Fang manages to get to her feet._

_She remembers, now, and is grateful and happy that Vanille is not there, that Vanille had woken before she had and had long ago left. She doesn't know where she is, or how long she has slept, but instinct tells her that she must leave to find food and shelter. Her hand goes to her right shoulder and relief comes again in a great flood; if her Focus is complete and the brand gone, then Vanille was free as well._

_As she walks away, her mind, though still sluggish from slumber's weakening grasp, wanders to a certain blonde soldier. Her pace hastens to leave the crystal cavern behind. _

_

* * *

_

Colonel Lightning Farron shuffled paperwork reluctantly. She hated paperwork with a deep and unabiding passion and was well-known within the Guardian Corps to use every excuse necessary to avoid it herself or to hoist it onto some unfortunate subordinate. The latter was the easier way, especially since she had so many subordinates to bully, but there were several occasions where the paperwork was simply unavoidable. This was one of them.

She'd rather be on a hunt for a rabid pack of gorgonosipids or on the trail of a bloodthirsty oretoise than sit in her office contemplating a foot high pile of paper that her commander had ambushed her with.

With a sigh reminiscent of someone getting ready to do something unpleasant, she lifted her pen and began to write.

Her head began to pound thirty minutes in.

Her shoulders tensed up with frustration forty-five minutes in.

After an hour, her office phone rang and she yanked it off the cradle so fast, the console nearly fell off her desk. "Farron."

"Sis? You weren't answering your phone."

"Serah." Light gratefully dropped her pen and flopped back against her chair, rubbing the heel of her hand against her forehead. "I'm sorry, I'm in the office today. Amodar locked me in and took my phone. So I couldn't escape, he said," she muttered darkly.

Serah laughed, tucking the phone into the crook of her neck as she hung laundry out. "Paperwork again?"

"There's so much of it this time," Light muttered grumpily. "I'm going to drown in it. I already have a headache and I haven't even put a dent into the damn pile."

"Aww. Well, do you think you'll be able to come by for dinner tonight?"

"I might if I sell my soul for some minion to do all this work for me." Light glanced at the clock on her wall and then at the unfinished pile. No way would she get it finished in the same decade.

"I thought you already sold your soul last time Amodar collared you."

"Oh, that's true. How about yours? It's nice and wholesome, I'm sure it'll get me a good minion."

"If I do that, then who'll feed the children? And tend to the livestock and the farm?" Serah let out a gusty long-suffering sigh. "You take me for granted. It hurts."

"You're right, I'm sorry. The imaginary livestock and farm will simply wither away and die. I guess we'll just have to sacrifice Snow's soul. I don't think the children will mind, all he was good for was plowing the fields anyway. The imaginary fields, that is."

Serah laughed again. "Well, jokes aside, what time do you think you'll get here? I'm making your favorite, pasta with meatballs and spinach."

Light moaned in longing. With some regret, she turned back to the work at hand. "I probably won't make it in time for dinner. But I will worship the ground you tread upon if you save me a plate."

"Huh, a soulless husk of a sister worshiping the ground I walk on doesn't sound like it's worth pasta. Care to renegotiate?" Serah said, tongue tucked firmly in her cheek.

Lightning couldn't help but grin. "I can take Caleigh off your hands tomorrow with the twins."

"You may kiss the ground I tread upon with my pasta in hand. When should we expect you?"

"Probably not until late. I'll call before I leave the office. Anything else, your highness?"

"That's majesty to you. The spawn all say hi and bye."

Lightning smiled at the faint chorus of voices in the background. "Tell them I said hi and bye back. See you tonight."

* * *

Fang didn't know how long it took her to get out of that crystal maze, especially since she couldn't tell which way was north with the entire bloody fucking thing blocking out the sky, but she made it before she starved or gotten herself killed, which was always a plus. She also didn't see any sign of Vanille, which she stubbornly took as a good sign that the younger girl had made it out safely on her own and tried vainly to keep the nagging reminder that Vanille had the worst sense of direction she'd ever seen at bay.

Though she moved at a steady pace, her mind wandered frequently to the other l'Cie and especially to Lightning. Questions bubbled inside her mind, making her chest feel tight and uneasy, but she shoved them away as she trekked to freedom.

Several times, she had to stop to regain her breath. Her limbs still felt strangely heavy, but she was slowly regaining her strength. She felt light-headed at some point and knew that for a sign of dehydration; she had to find a source of water and soon.

In the back of her mind, she wondered how Ragnarok had had the foresight to make a path out of the crystal pillar. Either way, she was glad she didn't have to climb or scale a wall. _The beastie could smack a viper's nest out of the sky as well as be a bloody thoughtful architect._ But she was thankful all the same.

When she finally found her feet on solid earth, night had fallen. She took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of Pulse: wild, free and the very faintest hint of danger. She eyed her surroundings and saw nothing but a vast expanse of fields dotted with boulders and most likely a few ridges that could abruptly lead off to a leg-breaking precipice. She knew better than to travel after dark on Gran Pulse, no matter how well she knew the terrain. Though it stung her pride to admit it, but she wasn't anywhere near to full strength and without light, she had no idea where she was.

There was the barest sliver of moon in the sky, just enough that Fang could see that a large shadow fell over her. A quick glance up brought a smile to her face; there, suspended by crystal, Cocoon hung in the sky like a great specter. She felt strangely pleased that she'd brought it down from its place in the heavens, but not destroyed Pulse with it. She wondered if it was still habitable; surely Orphan's death would have destroyed the other fal'Cie. She remembered Lightning telling her that all of Cocoon's fal'Cie came from Orphan and with Orphan's death, the other fal'Cie would fall.

The thought of seeing Lightning again squeezed at her heart and pushed her onward. She moved slowly through flat even ground, ears pricked for the sound of anything that might want to take a bite out of her.

Gods, she was going to be humiliated if a gorgon got the best of her.

Fang kept walking until her breathing became shallow and uneven. She found a large boulder and pressed her back against the cold roughness and simply slid down until she sat on dirt. She laid her lance across her lap, leaning her head back as she caught her breath. The temperature was cool and slightly humid; spring, Fang thought. She'd woken in spring.

Spring meant mating season.

Which meant breeding gorgonosipids. And oretoises. Both were particularly unwelcoming to humans when they were out searching for mates.

Maybe a nap was in order.

* * *

Sergeant Bristow sat in the open door hatch of a velocopter, a stun rifle strapped to his side. The aircraft cruised along the edges of the Archlyte Steppes bordering Oerba, with both the sergeant and a four man squad on patrol duty for any wandering packs of beasts interested in a taste of human.

The cool night air, disturbed by the silent spinning blades, fluttered his uniform collar and thin jacket lapels. He wore a lightweight helmet with night vision capabilities, and a leash and harness around his waist and legs should the velocopter have to evade an aerial attack. The winged beasts mostly avoided aircrafts, but it wasn't uncommon for one to try for a free meal.

"Sir," his helmet's radio chirped with the voice of a memeber of the squad. "Half klick at our two o'clock, I see movement towards Outpost B5."

Bristow turned to watch the movement, tapping at his helmet's controls to zoom vision. "Hunting pack of gorgons, looks like. Small, I count only a little over half a dozen. Radio it in to the outpost, they'll take care of it."

"Yes, sir."

Quiet night, Bristow thought as he settled back into his seat by the door, resting his boots against the landing skids. Even for spring, where the beasts practically threw themselves at the walls of various human settlements. A far cry from Cocoon, when attacks were sporadic at worst and the most action any Guardian Corps soldier would see would most likely be the sparring ring at headquarters, or rescuing a bunch of drunk teenagers who'd wandered too deeply into a neighboring forest.

Pulse was alive, both a paradise and a death trap. The sergeant rubbed at the rough beard on his chin, lips quirking slightly. He remembered fearing it when the Sanctum used it as a prison colony for convicts and exiles. And when Cocoon fell, he'd been terrified of walking, fighting, on this unknown world where he'd been taught only monsters existed. And now, now, he supposed he'd come to love his new home, in a strange way. People populated it, adapted to it, and, maybe for the first time, learned to live and be human again.

Not that there hadn't been some troubles at first, he mused. The beasts here would have torn apart Cocoon's cities easily, but they'd toughened up fast. In a way, he felt a strange sense of pride that they'd done it, that they'd built a life, without the help of the fal'Cie.

"Sir, there's- I think there's someone down there." Bristow examined the pilot's pointed finger at the console, noted the weak heat signature and heart beat.

"It looks human, sir. Too small to be a gorgon, unless it's a young one. Not moving either, could be injured."

Bristow nodded in acknowledgment. "All right, we'll check it out. Land the bird. Private Shay, get the med kit and gurney ready. I'll take point, Spanner and Murphy, cover our backs."

He drew his rifle and with a quick hand signal, climbed out. Giving the area a quick sweep, Bristow moved swifty to the still figure leaning against the boulder. The squad medic, Shay, knelt beside the woman, checking her pulse and scanned for injuries as Bristow stood guard.

"Looks like she's just unconscious. No visible wounds, looks a little dehydrated." He did a quick search with his scanner. "No bone breaks or sprains."

"How the hell did she make it out this far? Maybe from Cocoon? There were no reports of a ship crashing."

"Doesn't look like an accident, sir. I got the gurney, let's get her loaded u-" A hand shot out, grabbed the medic by the lapels with an audible growl. "Whoa, hey, lady!"

Fang's eyes opened, narrowed on the hapless soldier's helmet face. "Who the bloody hell are you?" The tip of her lance was already aimed for his throat.

Bristow snapped his rifle sight to Fang. "You want to move your weapon, ma'am. We're friends, we'll get you out of here. We won't hurt you." Though he had a weapon trained on her and she looked fatigued, his body tensed. There was an air of danger around her, much like a wounded and cornered animal. She looked unpredictable and Bristow knew to approach that with every kind of caution; Pulse had taught him that.

"Friends don't go surrounding me with fucking guns in the middle of the fucking night," Fang snapped. Her eyes narrowed at the uniforms. "You look like Sanctum dogs." Her fist tightened around her lance and she shifted her legs under her, ready to spring up and attack.

Bristow blinked at her words, his face still shielded by his helmet. The Sanctum had fallen with Cocoon years ago; only the Guardian Corps existed now. Deciding perhaps the woman might have suffered a head injury, he kept his tone calm and even. "We're Guardian Corps. We were patrolling the area, spotted you here and assumed you were injured. We won't hurt you. We can take you to a doctor. If you'll release my man, we can fly you straight back to Oerba."

Somewhere in Fang's mind, the soldier's words nudged a memory. "Guardian Corps... Lightning. I think-she's a sarge. Sergeant. Is Lightning still in the Guardian Corps?"

Bristow was surprised. "Colonel Farron, you mean?"

"Yeah. I don't want a bloody doctor. Take me to her. She knows who I am."

"She's most likely off-duty by now, but we can house you until tomorrow. Please, ma'am, lower your weapon. This is Private Shay, he's a medic, he's only here to help you. We won't hurt you."

Fang growled again, but lowered her lance. "I want Lightning. Get her on the fucking phone or radio. She'll see me."

Bristow felt a frisson of fear go down his spine. Colonel Farron was known for her... displeasure when she was disturbed during off-duty hours. He'd heard stories of how a tongue lashing from her could flay the skin off a seasoned veteran's bones. But something about the woman, with her wild green eyes, odd clothes and determined expression made him think that maybe he could take a verbal beating. And Bristow didn't want to find out if the colonel would be more displeased if this woman was someone she knew and they didn't alert her immediately.

He nodded in affirmation. "I'll radio it in."

* * *

Lightning tugged wearily at her tie and unbuttoned the top of her uniform. The new GC uniforms weren't the most comfortable, but they certainly did look nice in a way. She opened the front door to Serah and Snow's house and was immediately blasted by sounds of what could be mockingly called music in the living room.

"Turn that down right now," she yelled over the noise, the headache returning with a vengeance to attack her sinuses. She managed to catch a chorus of "aww's", but the music was tuned down.

Serah appeared at the kitchen doorway, a slight smile curving her lips. "Hey, sis. How was work?"

"Terrible. Never ending pit of paperwork. Got most of it done, though." She dropped her briefcase to the floor with a resounding thud. Serah gave it an inquiring look. "More paperwork because I'm just a good little soldier." She said it with a sneer.

Serah laughed. "Amodar?"

"Amodar," Lightning agreed. She dropped down to a seat at the kitchen counter while Serah slid a plate of reheated pasta before her. "Oh, thank God. I haven't eaten anything at all day." Happily, she began to eat while Serah finished chores.

"How are your ears still working?"

"Hm?" Serah hummed absentmindedly. "What do you mean?"

"The girls were blasting something when I came in. Nearly made my ears bleed from the volume of it."

"Oh, you get used to it."

Light gave her a considering look. "Do the neighbors get used to it, too?"

Serah chuckled. "I'm not sure as I haven't heard any complaints." Reaching into her pocket, she produced a pair of earplugs. Lightning laughed. "Smart. The neighbors could have complained and you didn't hear it."

"That's true," Serah agreed, placing the earplugs back into her pocket. "The plugs don't block it out entirely, but at least my head isn't ringing. I heard them turn it down when you came home." Serah turned away when the phone rang, a brow furrowing slightly. "Who could be calling this late," she murmured, picking the phone up to her ear for a moment.

Serah held the phone to Light. "It's for you," she said. "A Sergeant Bristow?"

Light took the phone, curling her fingers over the mouthpiece; irritation settled over her fine features. "I know Bristow. I'm sorry. I know I said I wouldn't let the Corps call here."

Serah only shook her head. "It's fine, I understand. Only for emergencies, right?"

She nodded. "I'll take this outside. Hopefully, it's nothing serious." She straightened and strode through the sliding glass doors to the backyard patio, her posture stiffening as she shifted the phone to her ear. "Farron."

"Sir, this is Sergeant Bristow. I'm terribly sorry to disturb you this evening."

"What is it, Sergeant?" Her tone was clipped and cold.

"Sir. Approximately half an hour ago, I was on patrol with my squad in a heli about twenty-four klicks due west from Oerba, in the Archlyte Steppes near the Spire," he responded, referring to the crystal pillar holding Cocoon. "My men and I saw someone who appeared to be injured. We ascertained there was no distress call placed previously. We proceeded to set down and administer medical aid. The... civilian was suffering from dehydration, but appeared to be in acceptable mental capacity whereupon she stated she knew you, sir. She gave me your full name. She insisted that we contact you."

Light's breath hissed out between her teeth. "Do you do everything civilians tell you to, Sergeant?"

Bristow felt his spine stiffen in preparation for a tongue lashing. "No, sir. However, I believed the civilian genuinely knew you and believed it was best to contact you. Sir."

"Did the civilian give a damn name?" Light snapped. Her hands fisted in a mix of irritation and annoyance.

"No, sir."

"Did the civilian provide identification or a reasonable explanation of how she came to be in the middle of the Archlyte Steppes in the middle of gorgon mating season?"

"I- no, sir."

"Did she provide you with any other information other than my name?"

Bristow felt cold sweat trickle down his back. "No, sir."

"So you feel it is necessary to contact an officer who is not even your direct CO at the request of a civilian who, as of this point, has no name, identification, or physical description?"

"Sir, I was unable to ask for this information as the civilian is currently unconscious. She-she appears to be about roughly under six feet, shoulder-length dark hair, dark eyes and tanned complexion. Roughly 130 pounds, carries a long spear. Wearing a blue robe of some description, boots, tattoo on left shoulder."

"You know you've described most civilians in Oerba, Sergeant. For all we know, this mysterious civilian who knows my name could be out poaching in the middle of the night, albeit foolishly with a damn robe, but since we don't know who she is, let's just assume that. So instead of taking her to the nearest GC station or hospital, you called my personal line hours after I've gone off-duty just because this idiot civilian knows my name."

"Sir." Bristow gulped. Even if he wasn't face to face with the colonel, a fact for which he was eternally grateful for, he could feel his bowels turning to water. He glanced over his shoulder to where Fang lay lulled under a mild painkiller and wished desperately he had asked for her name before she dropped out like a light back into sleep. And felt a surge of resolve. "She insisted on seeing you, sir. She referred to you as sergeant. I think she may have come from the Spire-"

"Oh, so she can't even get my rank right. That's brilliant, Sergeant." Lightning's voice was cold enough to freeze rampaging oretoise in its tracks.

"Sir," Bristow gulped. "Please, I can bring the civilian to your residence."

If it was possible, Lightning's voice got even colder. "You want to bring Guardian Corps business to my personal residence? Is that right, Sergeant?"

"Or wherever you choose, sir. I-I believe the civilian. Sir."

Lightning sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, her rage cooling as she heard the earnest tone in the soldier's voice. She knew Bristow's reputation as a steady and efficient officer who wouldn't bring trivial matters to her attention. She turned her wrist watch to her eye, examining the time. "What's your ETA?" She asked after giving her address.

"No more than twenty minutes, sir. We'll head out now," Bristow responded, relief practically pouring out of him. "Thank you, sir."

"Get here asap," Light said flatly and flipped the phone shut.

* * *

When her ears picked up the telltale mechanical hum of a velocopter, Lightning opened the front door. Glowing rotor blades slowed as the aircraft set down silently on the wide open lawn. She strode out to the porch and stood with legs spread to shoulder width, arms crossed and face expressionless. It was dark, the last vestiges of the setting sun just barely coloring the evening.

She saw two figures emerge and stride towards the house. It was too dark to make out the figures, but she scowled at them. The one at the forefront was undoubtedly Bristow. He stopped just before the steps and snapped his heels together and saluted.

"Sir!"

Lightning gave a single nod and flicked her eyes behind Bristow. The porch light shone directly behind Light and her shadow fell over the newcomer, obscuring their facial features. The person stood awkwardly, as he had difficultly standing. He wore a loose Guardian Corps long coat, with the symbol of the Corps emblazoned over the breast pocket. His hand rested briefly on Bristow's shoulder as he walked-more like stumble-towards Light.

"Lightning?"

A woman, Light thought, brow arching. Lightning stiffened her posture and her voice snapped out. "State your name and rank."

"I-what? You-you... don't you remember me?"

Bristow angled his body, raising his arm up for support. "Sir, we found her dehydrated and injured. She was asleep during the trip here, she may be disoriented."

Irritation rose in her throat, made her hands fist. She shifted slightly and stepped down before the stranger. "Listen here, civilian, I don't know you or how you got my na-"

Her voice broke off as light fell over her face. The face was tanned and streaked with sweat and exhaustion. Tousled dark locks fell over her temple and over sharp cheeks and green eyes.

"Sir?" Bristow asked tentatively as the silence stretched out for too long. He could practically swim in the open tension. Lightning's mouth was still parted as her eyes were fixed in an intense gaze on the other woman's face. Her fist shot out, quick as a snake, and gripped the Guardian Corps lapel, bodily dragging the woman up the three steps up the porch and to the light.

Fang smiled nervously, eyes squinting slightly. "Still doing your name good, I see."

Lightning's body seemed to snap at her words. Very deliberately, she stepped backward away from Fang and realized that she'd forgotten to breathe. There was a roaring in her ears, as though she were under water. Later on, she would wonder what exactly she was feeling, but at that moment, she didn't hear the screen door open noisily, or the sound of light feet.

"Mommy?" A slim girl, no older than twelve, appeared at Lightning's side, a hand brushing over her strawberry blonde locks. "Who's that?" She asked, turning eyes full with curiosity to Fang.

* * *

Author's Note: Please review :( I'm told that I'm a jerk for that ending, btw. /rage away at me all you please! Less than three, because ff doesn't like me to display the relationship between numbers. What a foresight thar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Second Wind**

**Chapter Two**

**By: Calore**

* * *

Fang knew there were certain experiences in life that simply couldn't be duplicated, like the first time she ever dragged a wyvern down for Vanille, or the first time she and Light had ever kissed, or the second time she became Ragnarok and saved the world. But seeing a miniature Lightning standing before her, staring curiously up at her as though she were...

Fang didn't know why the girl was looking at her, but at the moment, she just couldn't respond. The breath had been walloped out of her, like a gigantic paddle had smacked against her chest. She swayed on her feet as the beautiful child, who was really the spitting image of her mother right down to that gorgeous pink hair, looked at her with concern.

"Are you okay?"

That seemed to snap Lightning out of her reverie. She placed a gentle hand around the girl's shoulder and bent down slightly. "Go inside, baby. I'll be right in, okay?" She smiled encouragingly.

The girl frowned slightly and Fang quivered. She looked just like Light. So much like Light, Fang would have sworn she was looking at a young and innocent Lightning. _Not Lightning,_ she thought. _A young Claire._

"Are they company?" she asked, seeing Bristow still standing on the lawn. "Should I tell Aunt Serah?"

Lightning shook her head. "No, you don't have to do that. Go... just go inside, okay? You can ask your aunt to set out some dessert, okay?"

The girl brightened considerably, a smile touching her lips, and Fang felt her heart break a little. _My God,_ her mind thought, over and over. _My God, she is going to leave broken hearts in her wake when she grows up._ The girl went inside the house and Fang could hear her call for Serah.

Serah. Lightning's sister. Fang opened her mouth to speak, but Light spoke first.

"Thank you for bringing... this to my attention, Sergeant. You are dismissed." Bristow snapped off a smart salute and left, the displaced air from the departing velocopter tossing Light's hair back.

Fang tugged the coat around her more tightly, feeling the ball of ice that'd been steadily growing since she saw the child touch her limbs. She'd slept the entire way and hadn't asked how long it'd been. Perhaps she'd been afraid of the answer.

Perhaps she'd been afraid of seeing exactly what she saw just then.

"Fang." Her name tasted odd on Light's tongue, like a foreign word. "Fang," she tried again, her eyes shifting away from Fang's face. "Why don't you... come inside. It's warmer."

Fang nodded, though she's not sure if she really wants to go inside or run back to the crystal pillar. "All right."

* * *

Lightning lead Fang away from the living room and kitchen into the study, closing the door carefully behind them. Her hand hesitated over the lock, but fell away.

"Have a seat."

They sat, Lightning behind a large antique desk and Fang before her, shoes sinking into the thick carpet. Unadorned windows showed the night behind Lightning. She placed a glass of water on the desk and Fang took it gratefully, wetting her dry lips and throat.

"Vanille's safe." Fang blinked in surprise.

"That's...that's good," she mumbled, feeling guilty that she hadn't thought of her closest friend since ascertaining that she was not still crystallized.

"Yes. It's been some time since she woke, but she's doing well. It's a little late now, but I can arrange for a meeting."

"No." Fang wasn't sure who was more surprised, her or the woman sitting across from her, at her sharp tone. "No, I can see her later," she amended, more softly.

Lightning nodded. "All right. How are you feeling?" She asked after a brief pause, noticing Fang's gaunt look.

"I'm fine." Fang was not fine and both of them knew it. "Ah. How... how long has it..."

"Thirteen years." Fang's throat clutched painfully, tightly enough that she fought for breath, but she kept her composure and only nodded.

"A lot has changed," Light said. "It was hard at first. But we managed and we're doing better now. Gran Pulse has, maybe for the first time in centuries, human life. We've created towns that nearly rival the size of some on Cocoon, and we still scavenge Cocoon for anything we can find. The Cocoon fal'Cie are all gone, but maybe that's for the best. We're not pets anymore." Light angled her head slightly, pride tinting her voice. "We can stand on our own two feet and it was all thanks to you."

Fang would have answered. She wasn't sure what she would have answered that with, but all she could see was how beautiful Lightning was, how mature and strong and looking as though there was much more to be said, but her lids feel like there are weights attached to them and the room is suddenly looking fuzzy.

"Bloody hell, I think I'm going to faint," Fang muttered indignantly. She didn't have time to look at Light because the woman was really too gorgeous for her own good and she could look at her pretty face all day if she could.

Fang promptly tipped over her seat and into darkness.

* * *

"How? I thought she wasn't ever going to... I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean it that way-"

"It's fine, Serah." A quiet intake of breath. "How is she?"

"The medic did a good job of taking care of her. She's healthy, she just needs some rest. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

"Oh, God, and the girls-"

"No. No. That's for later."

"You can't put it off forever."

"I'll try my damnedest to." The tone was mulish.

A sigh. "All right. Vanille and Hope are coming, they want to see her. What are you-"

_Vanille. _

She heard a door close softly and then nothing.

* * *

"But I want to see her-" The voice was muffled, coming from the other side of the door.

"Not now. Later. I promise."

"But why not now?"

"Because now isn't a good time, sweetheart. You'll see her later. I promise."

Even if she couldn't hear the response, she couldn't tell there is the faint air of unhappiness.

"What are you doing? Why would you want to see her?" A new voice.

"She woke up, I told you she would! Of course I want to see her-"

"You're being stupid. Let's go." The voice was tight and angry, almost a hiss.

_Waking up just to fall asleep again, eh?_

She didn't have the energy to argue.

* * *

_Fang slung her arm around Vanille's shoulders. The pair walked together companionably at the rear of the group with Lightning taking point. They'd just arrived inside the Fifth Ark and there was a general air of foreboding and defeat about them after what Barthandelus had revealed. But somehow, Fang didn't mind so much. She'd finally found Vanille and the tightness she'd felt in her chest before from the knowledge that her adoptive sister was somewhere out there, alone and unprotected, had dissipated. Both used to their current position, their strides were evenly matched and they moved easily._

_"Vanille," Fang started to say._

_"Fang," Vanille replied playfully, smiling slightly. She was in a good mood, happy to be back home. Even if the behemoths seemed to dislike her more than usual. _

_"What do you know about Light?"_

_Vanille blinked in confusion. "Lightning?"_

_"Yeah, you know, the girl in that revealing outfit with the red cape and scowl," Fang said with a touch of sarcasm. "Walking about thirty feet ahead. If you were tall enough, maybe you'd catch a glimpse of her-" She was interrupted by a hard jab to her ribs and chuckled, squeezing the younger girl's shoulders in apology._

_"Well..." Vanille trailed off, a brow furrowing in concentration. "I didn't stay with her for very long. But she's business-like, like a, a-"_

_"Soldier?" Fang supplied._

_Vanille brightened approvingly. "Yes! But she seems nice. You should ask Hope, they went off on their own when I was with Sazh." A curious look lighted her eyes. "Why are you asking about Light anyway?"_

_Fang only shrugged, though her mind wandered to their conversation in Palumpolum, how, at the time, Lightning had looked nothing like a soldier. "Nothing. Nothing in particular."_

She didn't know if she was dreaming or remembering or even if she was alive, but somehow, she wished for all three.

* * *

_Snow sat next to her gracelessly, his large body thumping down on the ground beside her. If Fang was paying attention, she'd have mentioned that making that much noise just invited predators for an easy meal, but she wasn't._

_"So. Heard you and sis got into a little ah..." Snow wracked his brain for the word. Girls didn't like the word fight. Fight meant there was a right side and a wrong side and if the wrong message or nod was conveyed, it meant -he- was on the side of the wrong side and his neck was the next target. But Fang wasn't like most girls... was she? He sighed inwardly. Girls were so complicated. Even Serah could still get him all twisted up that he wouldn't be able to tell his head side from his tail side until he was begging for forgiveness._

_"Mm."_

_"You, ah, want to talk about it?"_

_"No." Fang began to gnaw on a piece of jerky, her eyes fixed on the pink head across camp._

_"Well, I know sis and I aren't exactly buddies, but I do know a thing or two about her."_

_Fang's eyes flicked to Snow with interest. "Yeah, like how the business end of her fist feels."_

_Snow chuckled. "See? We do have that in common. Where'd she nail you?"_

_She tapped the left side of her jaw. "Sucker punched the bloody shite out of me."_

_Snow whistled, examining the damage. "She's fast. She didn't hold back on you."_

_Fang snorted. "I'd have been insulted if she had."_

_They sat, silently contemplative. "Hey, you noticed that she stopped biting your head off every time you call her 'sis'?"_

_Snow nodded. "Yep. She's down to just throwing me dirty looks only half the time now."_

_"How'd you get her to stop?"_

_Snow shrugged. "Just wore her down, I guess."_

_Fang turned her eyes back to Lightning, who was sharpening her gunblade, her back to the group. "I guess so."_

* * *

Lightning closed the door behind her, the latch clicking softly. Her eyes immediately went to the figure in bed and she felt the familiar tug that was still there. She felt bitterness coil inside her as well, but her face remained impassive, even if there was no one there to see.

She didn't have long; Vanille would be arriving soon.

She went to the bed, watching Fang, taking in her features.

Fang looked just the same. The same hair, face, skin. Her eyes were closed, but Lightning didn't need to see them to know what they looked like.

She'd seen them every day since Ragnarok was summoned.

Her throat tightened. Fang even smelled the same and the similarity had brought back more than she could bear. It was far too much and far too soon.

Her knee came to rest on the mattress, her hands braced on either side of Fang. She lowered her face close to hers, examining, no, devouring, every detail. She came so close that she could feel the warmth emanating from her. Fang had always been so warm, even in the cold nights on Pulse, as though her body was declaring that she was alive.

_"Enjoying the view?"_

_"I prefer touching over looking."_

_"Oh, my, was that a come on?"_

_"I meant with my fist."_

_"Oh, no need to be embarrassed, Light, that was still effective as a good solid punch." _

_Fang. Fang. Fang_. Lightning didn't realize she was saying her name until she'd already tucked her face into that warm neck, until her arms had folded to rest against that strong, familiar body. She breathed softly, but steadily, taking in Fang's scent until her heart felt like it would burst.

Fang even felt the same.

* * *

Snow was already opening the door when Vanille rushed up the front steps, Hope close behind.

"Where is she?" Vanille asked, gripping the front of his shirt with trembling hands. Serah appeared by Snow's side and took Vanille's arm gently but firmly.

"She's upstairs in the guest bedroom. She's fine, just resting now." Vanille started up the stairs, then stopped when she realized Hope wasn't following.

He only shook his head. "No, you go ahead. I know you want to see her alone. I'll be along later." The redhead gave him a grateful look and walked up with Serah.

"Let's talk in the kitchen," Snow said. Hope nodded.

Hope sat on a stool by the counter as Snow took two bottles of beer out, placing it before him. Hope took it gratefully with a murmur of thanks and took a deep swig. Snow remained standing, leaning his back against the counter edge, and simply let his hand hold the cold glass bottle.

"Is she really all right?" Hope asked.

"She didn't look that good, but Serah said it was just exhaustion and stress. I didn't actually talk to her. She was mostly unconscious the whole time."

"What happened?"

Snow took a long drink before answering. "I'm not sure on the details myself. Light didn't say much. Hell, Serah and I didn't even know Fang was in the house. I'd just gotten home when Light came out of the study carrying Fang."

"Was she hurt?" Hope asked, alarmed. "Did... did Light..."

"No, I don't think she did anything." Snow scrubbed his face with his hands, rubbing at his tired eyes. "Hell, kid. I don't know what the hell is going on."

Hope rested his forehead against his hand, elbow propped against the counter surface. If he weren't so shocked that Fang was back, he'd have been amused that Snow still called him 'kid' when he was nearly as tall as the blond man was. "We came over as soon as we heard. Vanille just... she looked like she'd seen a ghost when she answered the phone. I know we all hoped that Fang would wake up, but it's been so long. I guess we sort of... gave up." Hope laughed humorlessly. "It sounds wrong and maybe it is, but it got too hard to keep hoping for that long."

"I know."

"How's Light handling it so far?"

Snow took another gulp of beer, letting the cold brew wet his throat before he answered. "I can't tell a damn thing. You know how she is when she doesn't say a word. When she just turns blank like that."

Hope knew very well what Snow meant. He started to respond until the sound of Light and Serah descending the stairs stopped him. Snow gave him a telling look and met Serah at the doorway, speaking quietly for a brief moment before leading her away and leaving Light alone with Hope.

Lightning picked up Snow's half-empty beer and appeared to consider drinking it until she placed it back on the counter with a soft clink.

She sat beside him, her hands resting on the table. Hope knew better than to look at Light's expression for clues; she had the best poker face he'd ever seen. So he asked about the only thing he knew would be on her mind.

"How are the kids?"

"In bed."

Hope hesitated before asking. "Do they know?"

"Only that she's here. I didn't let them see her."

Hope nodded understandingly. "We can take her to our house once Serah gives us the okay."

"Thank you."

Lightning's shoulders were too stiff. Hope saw it only because they'd known each other for years; he also knew any offers of comfort would be rejected. Her eyes were set forward, staring ahead almost blankly. Her hands were not fisted, but loose, almost limp. His medic training told him that her breathing was steady and even, but her posture bespoke someone who was tired and, yet, ready to bolt at the same time.

"Light? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Hope. Be sure to thank Sergeant Bristow for me. He brought her here."

Hope's brow knitted. "Is that who found her? Bristow, ah, out of the Twenty-sixth Patrol Regiment?"

"Yes. He found her near the Spire. She asked for me by name. I chewed him out good for contacting me at home." Lightning smiled mirthlessly, that poker face cracking more, her eyes settling on her hands. "She asked for me."

"Were you surprised that she did?"

"Yes. No." A sigh. "I don't really know. I thought she'd have asked for Vanille." There is a touch of bitterness in her voice.

"Did you talk to her?" Hope asked quietly. He heard what was not said; Light never spoke Fang's name.

"Yes. Didn't say much. I didn't hit her, if that's what you mean."

Hope smiled for the first time since he heard that Fang was back. "Just checking. You have a mean right. I heard you carried her out like a princess."

Lightning snorted, but her lips curved. "Hardly. Snow took her up the stairs. I only got her out of the room." They went quiet.

"I didn't think she'd come back. I'm sorry. But it's been years. I didn't know if you were still waiting."

"No. I wasn't waiting." Lightning spread her hands out palm up, examining the lines crossing over flesh. "Not anymore."

* * *

Vanille was sitting on a chair by the bed, keeping vigil over Fang. She didn't know how long she'd been there, probably a long time since her eyes were starting burn and she had to scrounge up a book somewhere to keep herself awake.

She wasn't going to let Fang wake up alone.

In the six years since she'd woken from crystal slumber, she'd matured both physically and emotionally. Gone were the pigtails and the naivety and in its place was a willowy young woman with loose, long hair and fervently hopeful eyes as she gazed at her sleeping best friend. Hope had brought up a blanket for her and they'd exchanged a few words. He'd nodded understandingly and sat with her, their hands clasped loosely in the sort of easy affection and companionable silence that long time lovers shared.

"I never realized how young she was. Is," she corrected herself, whispering. "She's younger than us now. And she still took care of me when we were still kids in Oerba, all the way up until we woke up again on Cocoon. She was always protecting me, telling me that things were going to be all right, even if things were bad. She'd just smile and say we'd be okay, as long as we were together."

"I remember," Hope answered. "She was relentless when you were separated. And she saved the world with you and she's awake now. It's yours - no, our - turn to take care of her now."

Vanille brightened visibly, and smiled, squeezing his hand. "Yes, it's our turn now."

At some point, he'd stood up and kissed the top of her head, whispering that he had to leave for an early patrol shift and would be back soon. She'd nodded and continued to watch Fang, her lids drooping until she caught a slight movement under the covers. Like a cat, she swiftly crossed to Fang's side, a hand laid gently on her arm.

"Fang?"

A grunt. A very grumpy grunt, but it was music to Vanille's ears.

"Fang, are you awake? Do you need anything, water maybe? Food?"

"Hnnngh. Fie mo'min."

"What?"

Fang was silent as a grave.

Vanille frowned and shook her slightly. "Fang, are you okay?"

Fang lurched up abruptly from the bed, nearly head-butting Vanille and blinked blearily at her. Vanille barely stifled a yelp of surprise; Fang's hair was an absolute mess, there were still fading rings under her eyes and her skin was pale under the tan. She looked like something an oretoise had dragged along for an entire migration trip and back, but she was gloriously, wondrously, alive.

Fang squinted at the redhead and, without any warning, wrapped her arms around Vanille in a bear hug and fell back into bed, Vanille squealing the entire way.

"Five more minutes," Fang articulated very slowly and clearly. And dropped back into a dead sleep.

Vanille lay next to Fang, half frozen with shock and surprise. After recovering, she wiggled slightly and was met with steely resistance; Fang's arms were locked tight around her. She tried to slide herself under Fang's grip and those arms only tightened possessively. _Oh, God, don't tell I'm stuck here until she actually wakes up._ Vanille tried to bring her arms up to pull herself free, but they were no match to Fang; they lay helpless against her sides.

"Fang," Vanille hissed, a gradual blush coloring her cheeks. "Fang, this was cute for the first five minutes, but I need to get up!"

Fang didn't budge.

Vanille tried bringing her legs up to push herself away and felt them slip against the covers. When she did manage to arrange her knees to push against Fang's thigh, Fang simply rolled on her side and brought Vanille with her. The taller woman managed to get Vanille's face tucked into her neck, Fang's chin resting on the top of Vanille's head.

"Stoppit," Fang slurred. "Sleeping."

"Clearly," Vanille announced sarcastically. Her body was now resting awkwardly on her arm, which was also rapidly going numb. Her leg was also trapped under Fang's and she could feel her skirt riding up indecently from her struggles. And her back was to the door without the safety of covers, which Fang didn't seem to have the sleepy foresight to at least drape over her with.

_If someone walked in..._ Vanille's body rebelled violently in mortification at the thought. If somebody walked in, they'd be treated to a spectacular view of her chocobo chick panties, which nobody but Hope knew about because she'd dragged on the first clean set of clothes when she heard that Fang was back. Her cheeks burned with imminent humiliation.

"Fang!" Vanille whispered furiously. She didn't even know what time it was, but she certainly didn't want anybody else in the house waking up and walking in to investigate.

"Fang!" Fang remained oblivious. After a few frantic moments, Vanille finally fell back, still trapped and panting. Of course she wouldn't get free; this wasn't the first time Fang had grabbed her when she tried to wake her up before Fang decided bedtime was actually over.

When they were children, Fang had a habit of disappearing for the entire day with nothing but her spear and a day's meal in a satchel. Vanille never was sure what Fang did on those days, only that she came back filthy and exhausted. As the orphanage had set meal times, Vanille would try in vain to wake Fang before the other children left nothing but scraps, but it was akin to waking a rock. The others learned not to disturb a sleeping Fang on those days, especially the boys; they usually got a fist to the face for their trouble while Vanille would get bear hugs until she learned other ways to persuade Fang.

Suddenly, memories flooded her and her throat clutched so painfully and tightly that she gasped for breath. The years with Fang and the years without and everything in between when they met the other l'Cie, every single moment when she wished for Fang came back and her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. It hit her hard, the realization that Fang was back. She was really back. Vanille slumped weakly against Fang, quietly sobbing against the warrior's throat.

Vanille didn't notice Fang's arms relaxing slightly, or the tilt of her head as the taller woman blinked in confusion. She'd woken almost instantly, the vestiges of sleep wiped clean from her mind. All she knew was that she had Vanille in her arms and Vanille was crying. She'd woken in an unrecognizable place again, though it did strangely smell familiar. Carefully, she wrapped her arms around the redhead and brought her closer into the curve of her body. A hand came to rest on Vanille's hair and she stroked gently.

"Don't cry."

Vanille buried herself against Fang and weeped harder. Fang only kept stroking her head, shushing her gently, and whispered, over and over, "Don't cry."

When her sobs had quieted to only the occasional hiccup, Vanille pulled back to look up at Fang, her eyes wet and red rimmed. Fang smiled down at her, her fingers still tangled in red locks.

"You idiot. You let me wake up first, didn't you?"

Fang blinked in confusion. "Hm? What do you mean?"

Vanille tapped her fist against Fang's chest lightly. "You know what I mean."

Fang winced. "All right. Why don't we talk about that later?"

"Only if you promise to."

"I will. I promise."

Vanille looked satisfied and settled down, sniffling loudly. Fang chuckled. She started to bring her hand up to search for a corner to wipe Vanille's face when her eyes saw the red locks wrapped around her fingers.

"Hm."

"What?"

"You grew out your hair," Fang said thoughtfully. "You don't wear pigtails anymore?"

Vanille shook her head. "Not anymore."

* * *

AN: There are a few things I want to address. First, thank you for all the reviews, it was greatly appreciated! No, really. It was really nice. You should leave more. Yeah...

Second, Fang's past will be largely based on E.G. Szyslak's 'War Blossoms' snippets (story id: 6646891), with her permission, of course. I'll make references in this fic regarding how Fang grew up and what exactly shaped who she was in the game and in this fic. The wyvern reference with Vanille is also from War Blossoms. You should read it, it's quite awesome.

And third, since this fic does take thirteen years (HEEHEE, SEE WHAT I DID THERE? NOT TWELVE, NOT FOURTEEN, BUT THIRTEEN. I'm clever.) after the game, I've obviously taken some liberties with characters and their personalities (Hope is thankfully less annoying; if I had to write game-Hope, I think I would stab myself in the eye with a spork. And I wear glasses. Ow.). So, please take that into some consideration if you think there was any OOC-ness.

And fourth, I want to give thanks to E.G. Szyslak (ffffff, her last name makes me want to stab out my other eye) for uploading and posting this chapter. Yes, that's right. I did not experience the absolute joy and wonder of logging into my account, uploading this to Document Manger and then hitting the "Submit" button. Because apparently, the last time I did this, chapter one was missing like 2k words. LOL. And she had to fix it for me because I had no clue how to delete the chapter. She was quite mortified by this entire episode while I just sat about obliviously as I am wont to do these days, so I'm thus banned from uploading my own chapters. So, big round of applause to E.G. for tolerating my failures.

Other than this obscenely long AN, please review. Reviews give me the utmost joy. Truly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: Second Wind**

**Chapter Three**

**By: Calore**

* * *

Serah rose early both by habit and because of her chosen profession. Mornings on Pulse wouldn't be warm until quite a few months away, so she slipped into a pair of worn, but warm, slippers and a robe.

An arm snaked out and wrapped around her waist, dragging her back to bed.

"Mm, up already, doc?" Snow murmured sleepily. Serah sat back on the bed, her hand brushing over the blond crew-cut hair. _No more shaggy hair,_ Serah thought fondly. Though Snow's chin and cheeks were scruffy with whiskers.

"Someone has to get the kids ready for school. Sleep in for a little longer, you had a long night," Serah said. Snow smiled appreciatively, eyes already sliding shut. He pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand that'd been stroking his head and dragged the covers back up, settling his large body in for another hour.

Serah dressed and readied herself for another day, her mind on the newest guest in her house. She'd never had the chance to meet Fang, but had heard a great deal of her mostly from all the other l'Cie. Vanille was filled with stories of Fang from her childhood and the others amazed over her spectacular physical ability, but what concerned Serah the most was how little she'd heard of Fang from her own sister. The former l'Cie had been willing enough to talk about Fang, but not about Fang and Lightning together, though she had managed to drag out what had happened from her husband.

Her fingers tensed on the buttons of her blouse as she recalled what Snow had recounted to her.

She and Fang would have to have a talk.

She left to wake the children up and was surprised to find the beds empty. She passed the guest bedroom, her hand already reaching for the doorknob when she heard Vanille's familiar voice mixing with what had to be Fang's. She hesitated.

"Serah?"

Serah started and turned to the stairs. Lightning looked up at her from the bottom of the stairs, her uniform tidy and pressed. Serah's hand fell away from the doorknob guiltily. "You're up already?"

Her sister nodded. "I've already made breakfast. There's more in the kitchen. I'll take them to school today."

Serah blinked. Lightning rarely was up this early and even more rarely drove to the school, especially since it was on the other side of Oerba from the Guardian Corps headquarters. "Ah, all right. Be sure to tell Cally no more fighting in school," Serah added. As though on cue, there was an outraged "Oww! Cally, what was that for?"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aiming for your face!"

"Then what the he-"

"Kids," Light called out, turning to leave. "Cally, your mother will ground you for so long, you'll start to think sports and TV was just a fond memory. You, too, Arial."

"Claire?"

Lightning stopped and turned her head to face Serah, looking slightly bemused. Serah never used her given name unless she wanted her attention. Or to annoy her. "What?"

Serah paused, realizing she was unsure of what she wanted to say. She opened her mouth to speak, but changed her mind and closed it. "Nothing. Just... take care, all right?"

"Of course." She glanced back. "I'm sorry, but I might be late tonight."

"It's all right. I'll be home today."

Light nodded and left.

Serah watched her sister leave with a heavy heart. She heard her gather up the children and the brief scuffles of movement before the house fell silent. She walked downstairs to the kitchen and found a neat pile of pancakes, bacon and eggs. She sampled a bit of bacon and was mildly surprised to find that it wasn't too burned. Light was never a skilled hand at cooking, but she could prepare simple meals well enough. Serah spread the leftovers on two plates and filled two glasses of water, placing it all on a tray before walking back upstairs. Balancing the tray against her hip, she took a deep breath and knocked on the guest bedroom door.

Vanille appeared at the door, eyes looking swollen and red. "Oh, Serah! Good morning." Vanille smiled wanly, probably looking worse than her patient.

Serah frowned slightly, but decided against mentioning it. "I have breakfast and I want to check on Fang."

"Oh, I don't think Fang is hungry, but let me take that for you." Vanille took the tray and set it on the night stand. Fang, wearing an oversize shirt, looked up from the bed when Serah walked in and smiled in welcome.

"You must be Serah." There were still circles under Fang's eyes, but she looked better than she had before. "You look just like Light. Except not as mean."

Serah brought a chair and sat down by the bed. "A lot of people say that. Including the mean part." As Fang chuckled, Serah took Fang's pulse, her trained eye focusing on Fang's features. "I'm a doctor, I'm just going to do a quick check up. How did you sleep?"

Fang quickly sobered up. "Well enough, I suppose. Like I haven't slept enough already," Fang muttered.

"Any history of illnesses, medical conditions, anything like that?" Serah asked, noting to herself that Fang looked a little too pale.

"No."

"Are you experiencing any pain or discomfort?"

"No. Just a bruise on my back from a fall, but that's nothing."

"Let me see it." Serah saw her uncertainty and smiled charmingly, looking so disconcertingly similar to Light that Fang knew Serah wasn't aware of it. "I won't bite. I promise."

Fang, still unsure, looked at Vanille. Vanille smiled encouragingly. "It's okay, Fang. Serah knows what she's doing."

After a brief moment, Fang turned her back to Serah and lifted her shirt. Serah examined the fist sized bruise, noting the purple and yellow discoloration and the various healed scars over Fang's back. "I can prescribe you a cream to help with the pain. Keep your shirt up, I'm going to listen for your lungs." Serah reached into her coat pocket and drew out a thin stethoscope, pressing the diaphragm against her back. Fang jumped slightly when Serah slid the diaphragm over her chest, but kept quiet. "Breathe in and out," Serah murmured.

"All right, all done." Fang tugged her shirt back down quickly.

"You should take it easy for the next few days. I don't know what kind of symptoms might manifest from being crystallized as I myself didn't show any and neither did Vanille. Make sure to eat and no strenuous activity. I'd prefer you stay in bed for a little longer, but a little exercise – and by that, I mean just some walking and nothing else – couldn't hurt. I'll get you that prescription by the end of the day." Serah started to get up to leave when Fang stopped her with a hand gripping her arm.

"Where's Light?" Fang met Serah's eyes.

"She's out," Serah said evenly.

"When will she be back?"

"I don't know."

Fang hissed out a breath of frustration and released her arm. "Do you have any idea when she might be back?"

Serah hesitated. "I'm sorry, but I really don't know. My sister can be... mysterious, sometimes."

"Vanille, could you give us a minute?" With a worried look at the two, Vanille left without word, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Is she avoiding me?"

Serah hesitated, but decided against lying. "Knowing her, most likely," Fang closed her eyes at that and turned her face away, feeling her heart clench. Serah's answer hurt more than she could know.

Fang gathered herself, her hand fisting unconsciously on the covers. "Do... do you know why she doesn't want to see me? Is it... is it because of her... daughter? Is she married now?" Her voice caught at the end, but Fang kept her gaze level at Serah.

Serah sat back. She had not slept well the previous night, kept up by thoughts at how to exactly deal with this situation. She knew better than to tell things that were better left for Fang and her sister to say, nor could she lie; she'd long ago learned the consequences of keeping the truth away. Serah was, quite simply, at a loss of what to say.

Fang took Serah's silence to mean what she'd feared most. "It's all right that Light's moved on," she said quietly, lowering her eyes to the covers. "I understand. Thirteen years is a long time to wait for anyone and she never made any promises to me." Fang looked at Serah again, her eyes dull. "But I want to talk to her. I want us to be friends, if we can."

Looking at Fang, listening to her words, Serah's throat closed up. Her hands tightened together in her lap and she felt the overwhelming maternal instinct to draw Fang into her arms to comfort. But she kept her arms at her sides and remained in her seat.

"Fang," she started to say slowly, carefully measuring her words. "There are... certain things I don't think I should discuss with you. Things that you and Light should talk about."

Fang smiled, but there was no mirth in it, only the movement of lips. "That's what Vanille said."

"She was right to have said that. It's not our place to tell you because we might not know everything behind it. Actually, especially that we might not know. Lightning is my sister and I love her, but she doesn't tell me everything. But I can tell you this: if she didn't care about you, she'd be here instead of me."

Fang looked at her, surprise written on her features. "Are you saying that because she cares, she won't talk to me?"

Serah smiled for the first time that morning. "Yes, actually. Light can be slow sometimes. But she might be avoiding you to try to tell you how she feels the right way. So I wouldn't give up if I were you."

Fang stared at her, her green eyes unfathomable. But a corner of her mouth quirked and she laughed. "Yeah, you're right. That does sound like Light. Glad to see that much hasn't changed. That bloody soldier," she murmured fondly.

Serah handed Fang a plate of food. "It's still warm and you should eat. The bathroom's down the hall on the left. You'll find a change of clothes there." Fang took the plate, though she didn't touch the food on it.

"Thanks, Serah."

As Serah crossed the threshold, she looked over her shoulder. "And Fang? Claire made that." She left Fang staring at the food with wide eyes.

* * *

Serah found Vanille sitting in the kitchen, pushing a bit of pancake around a plate.

"How is she?" Vanille asked as Serah sat down beside her.

"I think she'll be fine," Serah said, nicking the pancake off Vanille's plate. "Mm, Light didn't burn them this time."

Vanille sighed. "Do you really think so?"

"Yes, doesn't taste charred at all. Maybe I should think about lifting that ban on the kitchen for her..."

Vanille made a face. "Serah!"

Serah laughed. "I never met Fang before, so I don't know her personally. But I think things will work out. It just... might be a while before that happens." Serah leaned back, her eyes drawn to the leftover breakfast by the stove. "It doesn't help that Light is avoiding her, but I think both of them need some time. They'll deal with it in their own way."

Vanille looked agonized, her voice choked and hushed. "Serah, Fang doesn't know. I wanted to tell her-"

"No." Serah shook her head. "We can't do that. We can't be the ones to do that."

"But Fang should know!" Guilt etched Vanille's features, her hands fisted. "God, I wish I hadn't woken up first. I don't know why I did, but I think Fang let me." Her voice broke and she buried her face in her hands. "That great big idiot."

Serah laid her hand on the redhead's shoulder. "That's not your fault. You know that."

"I can't keep something like that from Fang, it's not fair."

"It wouldn't be fair to Light for us to tell her. Light will tell her. She won't keep it from Fang," Serah murmured. "I'm sure of it."

Vanille sighed, looking tired. "But both need space now, right?"

"I think Light does. I can't speak for Fang."

"Can we take her tonight?"

"I think she's well enough, yes. You two don't live very far, a car trip won't hurt her."

Vanille nodded. "All right." A brief pause. "I'm worried about her. We've been friends for as long as I can remember, but Fang doesn't _tell_ me things. She keeps it bottled inside and just smiles like there's nothing wrong and most of the time, I can't even tell." Vanille looked troubled and said, quietly, "Sometimes, I don't know how she can bear to keep it all inside."

Serah was silent for a long moment. "When I was doing my internship," she said slowly, her eyes looking away into the distance. "I had always expected to be doing it in a hospital in Cocoon. Because that's what I wanted to be, someone who could help others. But then Cocoon fell and I didn't end up in a hospital. I was learning in a refugee camp on Pulse. I saw a lot of soldiers there who'd come back from missions, soldiers who hadn't expected to see any action when they signed up. Most wouldn't talk about what they'd gone through. Post traumatic stress disorder, the other doctors said. We didn't deal with that, it was out of our area of expertise and we weren't trained at all for it, so those soldiers were sent to psychiatrists and psychologists. So, I don't know what's exactly best for Fang. But a lot of those soldiers got better with counseling. Maybe that's something Fang should look into."

Vanille shook her head. "No, Fang would never do that. She never spoke to anyone, not even when we were kids after..." Another pause. Serah held her hand. "The only time I saw her acting differently was with Light, but she was still a little secretive, like a cat." Vanille smiled slightly at the comparison, thinking it very apt. Yes, Fang was very much like a cat when they were children with her frequent disappearances and dragging back whatever she'd killed.

"Did she talk to Light about what she went through?"

Vanille looked surprised, then thoughtful. "I don't know. I think she did. Light mentioned Fang's past when we were l'Cie once, but I guess I never put too much thought into it." Vanille looked even more worried. "If Fang told Light, then it'll be harder on her. All of this will be harder on her."

Serah squeezed Vanille's hand comfortingly. "We can't do anything but hope for the best."

* * *

Vanille came back into the room a few minutes after Serah left. She found Fang still sitting in bed, polishing off the last of an empty plate on her lap.

"Oh! You ate, I'm glad." Vanille took the plate away and placed it on the dresser. "And... you ate my plate, too."

Fang's mouth quirked. "I was hungry. Sorry."

"No, I'm happy that you ate. How are you feeling?"

"Like I want to take a shower," Fang grinned and looked at her inquiringly. "Was there something you wanted to talk about?"

Vanille picked up the tray and shook her head. "No, we can talk after your shower."

In the bathroom, Fang stripped and stepped into the hot shower. With a hiss of appreciation, it occurred to her that she hadn't had an actual shower since she was a l'Cie at Hope's father's apartment. She scrubbed vigorously at her hair, wincing at the tangles her fingers caught. She managed to pull them free with minimal cursing and set to scrubbing the dirt off herself. Stepping out, she tried to ignore the scattered toothbrushes and bottles of soap that clearly showed that children used this bathroom. She examined the assortment of towels hooked to the wall and yanked the largest one, a pink terrycloth. Fang rubbed the towel against her wet hair before wrapping the towel around herself. She swiped at the fogged mirror with her palm to examine herself.

She didn't know if she'd changed; Pulse and a ravaged Cocoon had been a bit short on mirrors. She pulled a corner of the towel up to dry her face, brushing it under her nose, when she froze.

The towel smelled like Claire.

Her chest feeling hot and tight, Fang gathered up the towel and buried her face in it, breathing in deeply. Yes, it smelled just like Lightning. This was her towel, the cloth with which she used to wrap around her body, to wipe her skin dry.

Unbidden, Fang's body leaped in response. Her loins tightened, her breath hitched and a deep pressure began to throb at the pit of her stomach. Her mouth went dry as she clutched at the cloth, her own skin still damp in the humid bathroom.

Even though she'd slept for thirteen years, it didn't feel like it'd been thirteen years. It felt as though only yesterday when she saw Orphan fall, when she became Ragnarok. It seemed like only yesterday when Light had kissed her and assured that they'd be all right.

But now Lightning wouldn't speak to her and she'd never seen Vanille look so guilty when she said she couldn't say why Light wouldn't see her. And Lightning had a child. _A child. _

The child was gorgeous, a mirror image of her mother. She remembered that the girl had soft green eyes, a feature that wouldn't have come from Light. It may have come from Serah, who had an innate tenderness and sweetness in her.

_Or maybe it was from the father._

Fang ground her teeth together viciously, her shoulders shaking. Her hands fisted on the towel, nearly tearing it apart. She couldn't stop the instant spurt of jealousy no more than she could stop breathing.

She knew very well what she'd said, that she understood that Light should have moved on. But the child had to have been no older than twelve. Maybe younger, but that still meant Light would have wasted almost no time in finding a new lover.

Rage, that familiar emotion, began to whisper to her, caressing her hurt heart. _She didn't wait at all. She took full advantage of your 'sacrifice.' What kind of woman who claims she loves you does that?_

No. There had to be a reason. There had to be. Light wasn't given to making easy attachments. A seed of doubt planted itself in the back of her mind and it occurred to her that she never asked about Lightning's past or what kind of person she'd been. They'd made no promises, but she thought Light would have... _What? Waited for you? For thirteen years?_ No, not thirteen years, but at least a little while. She was not a liar, she was not a... a...

_A whore?_

She flinched visibly. She felt cold, so very cold. Anger and rage were never hot, passionate emotions. They were cold things that left you frozen in the same cycle, over and over. They kept you in one place, never going forward, only trapped in the past. How long had she lived with those feelings of helplessness when her parents were taken from her, when she couldn't stop Anima from taking Vanille's future away, when she saw Serah and Dajh unconscious with that brand passing forth their death sentences?

But Light saw her. Light had seen that she was stuck in the same place and Fang had believed that she could be freed, that she could rectify her failures.

That she'd be able to move on if Light was there with her.

Fang uncurled her fingers from the towel and carefully hung it back up. Slowly, as though she'd aged, Fang began to pull the change of clothes Serah had left. It was just like her to fuck it all up to hell, she thought viciously. It didn't matter whose fault it was, but it was all dashed away and the best she could hope for now was whatever scraps Lightning decided she was worthy of.

* * *

Hope came to pick Vanille and Fang up later that day. Serah had turned a discerning eye at Fang and promptly disappeared somewhere into the house and came back with arms loaded with clothes.

"You're closer in size to Light than you are to Vanille or me," Serah explained, packing the clothes into a suitcase. "These are just some clothes Light doesn't wear anymore. She won't mind, I promise." Fang found it both touching and exceedingly cruel.

Hope entered the room, still dressed in his Guardian Corps uniform. He saw Fang and approached her, smiling almost shyly. Fang eyed him, much like an animal sizing another up.

"You got tall," was all she said. Hope grinned and seized her in a bear hug.

"Missed you, too," he chuckled. Fang pat at his back awkwardly. Maybe the kid hadn't seen her in thirteen years, Fang thought, but as far as she was concerned, she'd seen him just yesterday when he barely reached her shoulder.

"Turned into a soldier, too?" She asked after he let her go, looking at the uniform.

He tugged absentmindedly at the tie. "It's a lot easier blasting gorgons away if you've got a squad of buddies to back you up," said Hope. "I haven't been one for very long, Light didn't let me join until I was twenty-one."

Fang arched a brow. "That long?"

He ducked his head sheepishly. "My dad preferred it, too. Wanted me to finish school before I decided which way to go with my life. So I studied, helped with Reclamation-"

Both of Fang's' brows winged up. "Reclamation? If that's what I think it is, Gran Pulse was never yours to begin with."

Hope didn't answer immediately, instead walking to the living room to sit on the couch. He stretched his long legs before him, sighing with relief. "Sorry, long day. Mating season gets hectic," he explained with a rueful grin. "And you're right, it's a misnomer, but it was used for morale building. Most people never wanted the Cocoon fal'Cie to fall and were terrified of leaving their own homes, much less Cocoon, no matter how dangerous it was to stay. But we knew there had been people who lived on Pulse, even if most had turned cie'th or were just plain gone. So, we called it Reclamation to encourage people to rebuild on Pulse-sorry, _Gran_ Pulse-" Hope said cheekily, grinning. "We started with Oerba and rebuilt that first with encampments and outposts all along from the Spire to Oerba."

Fang wasn't sure how she felt about her former sworn enemies taking over her home. But what Hope said was true; there were no humans left on Gran Pulse, as much as it pained her to admit it.

"Clearing out Oerba was tough," Hope continued, "but we did mange to clear out all the nasties within a few weeks. We've rebuilt a lot of the neighboring villages, mostly because we followed old roads and travel routes. The Corps regularly take airships on exploration missions for resources and any potential ruins. We found a few cities, though we've only started to rebuild Paddra."

Fang only grunted. "Been there a few times. Watch out for traps."

Hope looked alarmed. "Traps? We haven't encountered any booby traps. And when we were l'Cie, there weren't any traps."

Fang only waved a hand dismissively. "Probably a good thing. We only touched the edge of Paddra when we were there. As I recall, the clan that built Paddra were treasure hoarders. Rumor was that the richest lords hid their gold away in death traps. Can't say myself if they're true or not, though."

"I'll have to pass that on," Hope murmured thoughtfully, making a mental note. "You think you might want to head out with us some time?"

Fang blinked in surprise. "To Paddra?"

Hope leaned forward eagerly. "Yeah! You're a great fighter and you've been there before, well, when it was still inhabited, but better than nothing. We've been looking through some of the ruins for maps or datalogs while mapping it from scratch, but it'd a great help if you came along. Only if you want to, though," Hope added hastily.

Fang thought about it. It occurred to her that now that she was awake, there was no war to fight. No focus to chase after, no enemy to confront. She nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

Hope grinned happily just as Vanille walked in to sit next to him. "Great! I'll clear it with Serah and my CO and go from there."

The redhead arced a brow. "Are you already planning on dragging Fang along on missions?"

Hope colored. "I said I'd clear it with Serah first..."

"Don't worry, Vanille," Fang smirked. "I'll be careful with the boyfriend."

"Fang!"

They talked for a few minutes longer until Serah finished packing. Hope insisted on lifting the suitcase for Fang and led the way to the car. Fang trailed behind Vanille and Hope until Serah stopped her at the front door.

"Fang?"

Fang turned, cocking her head slightly. "Was there something else?"

Serah surprised her with a quick hug and stepped back. "Take care of yourself. If you feel anything, anything at all, call me."

Fang blinked. Serah's head had barely topped her shoulder with that hug and she felt oddly touched. She nodded in response and smiled slightly. "I will. Thanks."

* * *

During the car ride, Fang tried not to stare much. The houses resembled the ones five hundred years ago when Fang was still a child, but only vaguely. They looked more like the sleek structures she'd seen on Cocoon, though not quite as audacious, a harmony of both wood and metal. The car pulled into a small, pretty two story house with a garden at the front. There was a porch with a two seat rocker, and windows lined both floors.

Hope took the suitcase out of the trunk as Vanille led Fang into the house to the second level.

"It's not big, but there's more room and privacy than what we had in the orphanage," Vanille was saying, opening the door to Fang's room. "There's an adjoining bathroom and closet. You can use whatever you like in the house, just think of it just like when we were kids."

Fang only nodded, suddenly feeling tired. She gripped the door jamb, panting slightly. Vanille was immediately at her side, a concerned expression on her face. "Are you tired? You can sleep, you don't have to stay awake."

Fang shook her head. "No, it's not that. I guess a lot has happened." She tried to smile. "I think I want to go outside for a bit. Get some air. Do you mind?"

Vanille looked worried, but nodded. "Okay. Just call me if you need me, okay?" Vanille turned to leave when she stopped short. "Oh! I forgot, Hope picked this up for you." Fishing something out of her pocket, Vanille produced a small device. Fang stared at it.

"It's a cell phone. It won't bite," Vanille laughed.

"Why does everyone think I'm afraid of being bitten," Fang muttered, still staring somewhat apprehensively at the small electronic. "I've got scars, it just means I can take it."

Vanille only smirked. "Guardian Corps issue, most reliable signal available. There are supposed to be a lot of fancy features, but you'll have to get Hope to explain those. Durable, too, so you can stomp all you want on it and it won't break."

Fang took it with a slight sneer and shoved it into her pocket. "Thanks."

Vanille arched a brow. "Do you know how to use it?"

Fang sniffed indignantly. "Can't be that hard. I'll figure it out."

"Okay, well my phone number and Serah's are programmed in. I'm sure Hope put in some other numbers, too. Oh! And take a jacket. It's cold out."

"Yes, Matron," Fang sneered slightly with no real heat.

"I'm older than you now, you know." Vanille placed her hands on her hips, as though daring Fang to challenge her.

Fang only threw her a dirty look, grabbed the coat Hope had slung over the newel post at the bottom of the stairs and walked outside.

"Dinner's in two hours!" Vanille called after her.

"I'll be back with both arms and legs, Matron!" Fang tossed back, grinning when she heard Vanille call her something unpleasant. "I might even get lucky and come back with a head, too."

* * *

Arial Farron stealthily climbed out the second floor window of her Aunt Serah's house. She was slender for her age and especially light on her feet, so being in places she was not supposed to be or getting out of places she was supposed to be was a talent that drove all her guardians slightly mad. Her mother was especially hard to fool, though, and probably would have caught her by now, so she was grateful that it was Serah who was watching them. She carefully managed to get to the ground without hurting herself and rummaged through the storage shed to drag out a bicycle. There was her veloboard that was faster and easier, but she suspected her mother had bugged it after a few too many escapes, so it would have to be the bike today.

She carefully kept out of sight of the windows and prayed that her aunt did not notice she was gone until much later. Arial pedaled steadily down roads, her heart pounding in excitement. Her hands were sweaty on the handlebars and it wasn't from exertion. Her thoughts raced as she replayed all sorts of scenarios in her mind and anticipation spurred her legs to go faster.

Once she arrived at her destination, she hid the bike in some shrubbery and scampered to the windows, peering through the glass. She didn't dare knock; Aunt Van would call and Aunt Serah would come get her, undoubtedly looking harassed that Arial got away again. She checked all the first floor windows and ducked down quickly when she spotted Vanille in the kitchen with Hope-and she scrunched her nose at this- _kissing._ She began to feel a tremor of panic and considered perhaps climbing to the second floor.

She was circling the house, pondering the best way to go about it when she caught a glimpse of something. Off in the distance some ways from the house, she saw a figure lying in a patch of sunlight.

* * *

Fang yawned and stretched on her back like a cat, enjoying how the warm sunlight on her bare skin felt. Her coat lay discarded at her side, rippling in the breeze. She'd always preferred sleeping outside when she could, perhaps due to her clan's nomadic nature and because she could tolerate the cold much better than others.

But most of all, in the sunlight she could escape the noise of her own thoughts.

Her eyes closed, she heard a slight rustle, but thought nothing of it. Just the breeze.

A shadow fell over her head, followed by the sound of hushed breathing.

Fang jerked, her eyes snapping open. Nobody snuck up on her. Nobody had ever been able to catch her off-guard or by surprise, except one. Her heart pounded, her ears roared and every muscle in her body tensed.

"Light?"

* * *

A/N: Ahh, the reviews! How they sustain me! I appreciate them, I really do. In fact, I think I may even love them, each and every one, as though they were beloved children. Of course, some are among my favorites and some take quite a bit of…extra loving. Take what you will with that analogy, lol. Anyway, I do apologize for the slow(ish) update. I recently got sick and took a few days off from work and then started playing Dragon Age 2. My life, of course, ended for the next four days after I started and I'm slooooowly picking up the scraps and my ass back up to get back to writing. I hope you enjoyed this chapter because I recall having some difficulty getting it to finish because it's pretty damn depressing. Anyway, please review. Every single one saves me from Dragon Age's devious clutches…

And I don't know about you guys, but I think Fang needs some serious hugs.

P.S.- I almost forgot, but thanks again to E.G. Szyslak (I spelled her name without checking it, success!) for giving this a quick proofread and updating this chapter for me (again) since I'm an tard.


	4. Chapter 4, Part 1

**Title: Second Wind**

**By: Calore**

* * *

Arial bent over Fang, her eyes wide. She'd only caught a glimpse of the warrior when her Uncle Snow had carried her unconscious up the stairs. Arial had wanted to see her again, but her mother had sent her to bed. Fang was tan and pretty, just as Arial remembered. Her hair was dark and long, locks spread over the lush grass. Her eyes were closed and Arial thought she must be sleeping. She realized she was holding her breath in and let out a puff.

Fang's eyes snapped opened. "Light?"

Arial opened her mouth to speak but only a squeak emerged. She scrambled away, her face coloring from being caught staring so blatantly.

Fang blinked in confusion, suddenly blinded by the sun when the stranger stopped shading her. She sat up and looked at the young girl now standing before her, both mute as rocks. Light's child. She was here. _Here._ Fang's mind froze, as did the rest of her. Why was she here? Was she supposed to be here? Did she want something? What was she supposed to do? What did one do when your ex's daughter showed up unannounced? Fang's eyes searched the surrounding area, for what she didn't know. Perhaps a savior in the form of said ex?

"Ah... hello," Fang managed awkwardly. The girl was looking at her expectantly, as though she was supposed to say something.

The girl didn't answer, only continuing to stare at her as though she'd sprouted an extra limb. "Um. I'm Fang. What's your name?'

The girl finally spoke, her face looking slightly hurt. "You... you don't recognize me?"

Fang frowned and felt even more confused. "Well, I remember you from last night."

"Oh." The girl appeared to be disappointed and, unreasonably, Fang felt like an utter cad. She cleared her throat, wondered if maybe being in crystal had made her insane.

"Why don't you, ah, sit down?" She asked, looking pointedly at the spot by her.

The girl sat where she stood, tucking her legs underneath her. She wore a simple pair of jeans with a t-shirt and jacket. Her hair was slightly tousled and long, almost to mid-back. She was almost tomboyish, but was saved by her sheer beauty; Fang still couldn't quite tear her eyes off the girl, she looked so much like Lightning. Fang felt her heart tug painfully, but forced up a smile.

"What's your name?"

"Arial Farron," the girl said shyly. Arial, Fang thought. A pretty name, one that suited her. Her mind clicked. Farron? She took Light's name? Maybe Light was not married or attached or whatever it was that Cocoon people did.

"That's a pretty name," she said lamely.

The girl only looked at her solemnly while Fang wracked for something else to say. Her mind stubbornly wandered to the girl's surname. What if Light had married and the father was no longer present and she took her maiden name again? Or if the father never married... Suddenly, Fang was seized with rage. He left her with a child and didn't marry her? Left her to raise a child alone? Her teeth ground together. She would hunt him down and kill him.

Arial looked at her strangely. "Are you okay?" She asked tentatively. Fang realized she was almost snarling and, with some effort, she forced herself to relax.

"Where's your mother?"

"She's at work. Aunt Serah is watching us."

Fang whipped her head around. "Is Serah here?"

Arial almost laughed at how alarmed Fang looked, as though she was caught doing something bad. "No. I snuck out."

Fang was speechless for several moments and looked over her shoulder again as though expecting to see Lightning or Serah charging towards them. "Aunt Serah probably hasn't caught on yet," Arial said, reading her thoughts. "Giving Aunt Serah the slip is easy. Not on Mommy, though. She almost always catches me." The girl looked mildly peeved at that fact.

Fang laughed. "No, it wouldn't be easy fooling Light."

After another moment of silence, Fang asked, "So, why did you sneak out?"

"I wanted to see you." Suddenly, the girl flushed and looked away. "I was... curious."

"I see. Does your mother... talk about me?" Fang asked gently. And felt guilty for asking a child for information.

Arial shook her head. "Not really. I saw a picture of you once, with Aunt Vanille in it. It was really old. But other people talk. People say you're a hero." Her gaze suddenly turned intense on Fang's face. "Because you saved Cocoon and Pulse."

"I wouldn't call myself a hero," answered Fang lightly, suddenly feeling flustered under the girl's eyes. "That's your Uncle Snow's job." Arial blinked in surprise and, slowly, smiled back shyly.

"My mommy calls Uncle Snow an idiot sometimes," she said softly. "But you're right. It suits him. Was he like that when you were l'Cie?"

Fang nodded, smiling in memory, though, to her, it was only a few weeks old. "Yeah. He's got a hard head and was always yelling 'Steelguard!' at the top of his lungs. It was his personal battle cry and a few times, we got mobbed and had to run for it because he was so loud." Fang laughed again. "I remember Light not being too pleased when that happened. She'd crack his head open if she could."

Arial giggled, imagining her Uncle Snow getting his head knocked in by her mother. "Mommy still bullies Uncle Snow a little."

"Oh, yeah?" Fang grinned. At least that much hadn't changed. "Do you live in the same house?"

Warming up to Fang, Arial shook her head. "No, we have our own house. It's just that Mommy works a lot and Aunt Serah watches us when she's busy, or Aunt Van and Uncle Hope. But we don't go to our house a lot," Arial added. "Most of the time, we stay at Aunt Serah's. Mommy says she's tired after work, but we can always go back to our house."

"Do you like staying with Serah?"

Arial smiled brightly and nodded. "We do. We get to play with cousin Cally and Aunt Serah makes the best food. And sometimes she doesn't tell Mommy when we got in trouble at school."

Fang's brow furrowed. "We?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she caught movement over Arial's shoulder.

Lightning strode across the lawn in long, confident strides, her uniform pressed and naught a wrinkle or fold to be seen. Fang took an instant to admire the picture she cut: the beautiful woman in a military uniform that only enhanced her femininity. She wore an outer dark grey coat that reached mid-calf, the edges adorned in a heavy ornate design. The collar of the coat was high, almost touching her chin and emphasizing her regal stature. Her shoulders bore twin insignias of three blue curved bars, a reminder of her rank. She wore another uniform beneath the coat, a creamy white with a matching skirt with a blue tie. Fang recognized the gunblade that was now slung at her hip rather than at her back. Knee-high boots the color of freshly turned earth completed the picture, with similarly colored gloves.

Then Fang saw the expression on Lightning's face and scrambled to her feet, backing away from Arial. "I didn't hurt her," she said, realizing her voice was no more than a wheeze, either from fear or awe she didn't know.

Lightning stopped before Fang, an elegant brow arched, but only nodded. "Thank you for watching her. She has a habit of being in places she knows she's not allowed." Light lowered her eyes to Arial, who got to her feet, looking slightly sulky. The look that passed between them, Fang saw, appeared to be one that they had often. Fang realized that the cross expression she'd seen on Lightning's face had been for Arial, not her. She was about to open her mouth and plead for Arial's case when a voice shouted out at her.

"What did you do to her?" Fang blinked and looked beyond Lightning's shoulder. Another girl was running towards them, hurtling at an impressive pace for her size. The girl threw herself between Fang and Light, her face a mask of hostility. "What did you do to my sister?" She demanded hotly, her hands fisted in a combatant's pose.

Fang blinked again. Even exuding anger, Fang saw the similarity. Her eyes went to Arial, who was standing by her mother's side, and then at the girl before her. The girl's hair was the same shade as Arial's.

As their mother's.

And the girl's eyes were the same color as Arial's. Her eyes moved back and forth, until she felt dizzy from it.

Then it hit her so hard, she wondered how she wasn't flattened from the blow.

"Sister?"

"Twins," Arial muttered, glaring at her sister. "This idiot is Avery, my twin sister. She didn't do anything, you idiot."

"Arial," Light admonished, laying her hand on her shoulder before she could say more.

Fang felt faint. Very faint. It was as though the world was tilted on its side, knocked out of orbit by... something. Ragnarok, perhaps. Twins, her mind repeated, almost hysterically. Twins. _Twins. Twins!_

There were two of them! Two! _Two!_

Swimming through the shock, she saw Light say something to the other child, the one she had not been aware existed. The child scowled darkly and responded, glaring back at her mother. Light's steady gaze seemed to cow her and she slunk some distance away, kicking at a rock sullenly. Fang had no idea what they'd said; there was a roaring in her ears, just like the night before when she saw Arial. She must have appeared ill because Light looked at her with concern, a hand reaching out to grab her shoulder. "Fang?"

Light was touching her. Touching her. _Touching her._ Fang's breath wheezed in and out frantically. Even if she was wearing a glove, Fang could feel the heat of her hand on her shoulder, spreading to her arm and the rest of her body like a pleasant flame. "I-I'm fine," she managed, but did nothing to dislodge that hand.

Light's hand lingered, then dropped away and Fang immediately missed it. "That's good. Serah told me you needed a few days of rest. You should go inside and sleep. I'm sorry that Arial bothered you, she is... adept at getting away from adults," Light smiled ruefully. Arial only hunched her shoulders and looked away.

"No, no, it's fine. She wasn't here long and we only talked," Fang heard herself say. "She wasn't a bother at all." Her eyes slid away to look at Avery in the distance, who was now watching them with the fierceness of a mother hawk. Everything about her, from the shape of her face and her mouth, nose and hair, all of it was exactly like Arial's. Like Lightning.

"I'm glad," Light said, placing her hand on Arial's shoulder now. The girl's head didn't quite reach Lightning's shoulder, a fact that Fang was fascinated by. They would doubtlessly still grow, getting taller as adults. "I'm sorry for Avery's behavior. She's very protective. It seems Arial can get away from even her."

Arial pouted. "Avery probably told you where I was."

Light only spared her a glance. "I didn't need her to tell me where you'd be."

Arial only threw her mother an appraising look. "Did you bug the bike, too?"

"I did no such thing," Lightning answered, unruffled.

Fang couldn't help but smile at the mother and child, though her heart tore inside like a deep wound. "Hey, kid. Don't go anywhere without telling your mother, all right? It worries her when she doesn't know where you are or if you're hurt," Fang chided gently. "If you want to visit, you can come by anytime, but let your mom know first, okay?"

Arial nodded reluctantly, sneaking a look at her mother. Lightning's expression showed nothing, her blue eyes as placid as a lake. Fang had the feeling that the moment was only going to degenerate into a stifling awkwardness, so she straightened and cleared her throat. "It's, ah, getting late. If you need to get going..."

Lightning nodded. "Yes, it's time for these two to get home. Thank you for taking care of Arial, Fang. I'll see you later." She turned, Arial trailing behind her.

_Seeing you later, eh?_

Fang ignored the voice, feeling oddly bereft as she watched the family leave together.

* * *

Once Lightning was safely in the car with the twins in the backseat, silent as rocks, she let out a quiet, shaky breath. She forced her hands to relax on the wheel and for her eyes to not glance at the rear view mirror for a last glimpse of Fang. It'd taken every ounce of her willpower to not burst into tears before Fang. Her throat and eyes still burned with ruthlessly held back sobs.

Seeing her sweet, but mischievous, daughter sitting with Fang, their heads bent close together... Light clenched her jaw tight and forced her eyes to focus on the road.

She would never admit that her heart had broken, just a little, at the sight.

And when Fang had looked up, her emotions were bare and open on her face just for an instant. Light could always read Fang.

Except for when it mattered in the end.

Her hands flexed on the wheel, her knuckles white, as she tasted the acrid bitterness in the back of her throat. Yes, when it mattered, Fang could shut her out and leave her in the dark.

But a traitorous part of her saw how Fang had graciously let her go when she couldn't bear to be there anymore. How Fang had not asked or demanded. And she had not offered.

Perhaps it was both their fault for leaving the matter unsettled. Her eyes slid to the rear view mirror, watching her children. Arial looked disappointed and a little sad, as though denied a long coveted treat, her eyes aimed out the window. Avery sat with her arms folded over her chest, a cross expression on her face. So alike, yet different.

She wondered what Fang thought of them. What had she said to Arial? Did she think Avery mean-spirited? Did she-

Lightning viciously shoved the thought away before she could complete it, irritated with herself. What was wrong with her? There were more important things to deal with other that what Fang thought of the children. Things that needed her attention immediately.

She'd hurt Fang. And Fang, as she was wont to do, had allowed her to. The guilt was there the moment she saw Fang and did not tell her the truth.

It was the wrong time, a part of herself argued. Her children were there. Avery was angry and Arial was disappointed at her. Fang had been awake for less than twenty-four hours.

Then you should have made the time, another part said. Stop making excuses.

Lightning didn't bother to argue. A headache was starting to pound in her temple and Serah's house was fast approaching. She parked the car into the driveway, just as Avery slammed the door shut and disappeared into the backyard, undoubtedly to climb some ungodly tall tree for the next hour.

Arial stared after her twin. "She's lucky she didn't get her foot run over."

Lightning sighed. "If it's not a run over foot, it'll be a cracked head if she falls. And don't think you're not in trouble. You know you're not supposed to sneak out."

Arial didn't even bother to look contrite; if she had, both would have known she was lying. "I know," she said softly. She met Light's eyes through the rear view mirror. "But you wouldn't let me meet her." _And you didn't tell her_, was the unspoken accusation.

The guilt nearly choked Light. "I'm sorry. It wasn't the right time."

"Then when is the right time?"

It was the same question she was asking herself. She didn't answer, hated herself for not knowing, and climbed out of the car to walk inside.

Arial remained in the car, her eyes turned to the direction her sister went. Knowing Avery, she could be gone for hours unless she went after her. And if she stayed out too late, Mommy would have to drag her back and then Avery would probably be grounded until she was thirty; Mommy really hated climbing trees.

Tap tap. Arial turned and saw her cousin's nose pressed against the glass. Cally, who was two years younger than both sisters, was tall for her age. She was nearly the same height as Arial with a sleek mane of her father's blonde hair and dark blue eyes. She was slightly lanky, already having lost most of her baby fat, though her face still retained a softness that came from her mother. However, despite resembling her mother, Cally was competitive, especially with her cousin Avery.

"You snuck out again," Cally accused when Arial got out. "I had to put up with Avy tearing up the backyard and every hidey-hole in the house looking for you before Aunt Light got home."

Arial made a face. "If I told her, she'd have locked me in and tattled to your mom."

"You could have told me," Cally pouted. She hated being left out of things with her cousins. "I can keep a secret."

"Avy would have pried it out of you," said Arial absentmindedly. She was debating with herself if she should find her sister. It would take her at least half an hour if Avery if had found a new tree and she was feeling a little tired. So much had happened.

"So, did you see her?"

"Avy?"

"No!" Cally made a face at her distracted cousin. "Fang."

Arial paused. "I did," she finally said. "She... seems nice."

Cally gawked. "Only nice? Did you talk? Did she turn into Ra-Rag-" She struggled to pronounce the name, showing her age.

"Ragnarok," Arial said softly. "And no, she didn't, silly. She's not a l'Cie anymore."

"Oh." Cally looked disappointed. "Do you think my mom would let me see her?"

Arial looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure. Why don't we ask her later, okay?"

Cally nodded, grinning. "Okay. I know where Avy went."

"Do you think you could find her? She might miss dinner."

Cally was already running through the backyard. Arial watched her go, her thoughts drifting back to Fang. She would undoubtedly get punished for leaving the house without permission again, but it was by far not the first time she'd done it fully aware of the consequences. Her family was splintered, with all three of them separated now. She had been happy with how they were, just the three of them living with Aunt Serah and Uncle Snow and Cally, but deep inside, she knew there was something missing. Whatever it was, it made her mother look melancholic at times and her sister fiercely protective. She knew that there was something between Fang and her mother, something unfinished that had left them all in a disjointed place and her own yearning for things that her young mind and heart was afraid to put into words. She wondered if seeing Fang was worth this feeling of unsettledness, that there was something... more.

She knew the answer.

It had been worth every second of it. And if it was going to be worth the pain the future brought, that was something she could learn to live with.

* * *

"I'm so sorry!"

Lightning only sank down into a chair and put her head in her hands, her elbows propped against the table.

"I don't know how she does it, but I swear I only took my eyes off Ari for a _second_ and the next, she's gone!" Serah babbled hysterically. "I'm so, so sorry!"

Light only shook her head silently, face still covered. Serah apparently took this to mean something bad had happened and wrung her hands, distraught.

"Oh, God, was Ari hurt? Did she get into an accident? Oh, God, I'm so sorry, Light, I'll never forgive myself, not like you would either-"

"Serah." Light's quiet voice silenced her sister in an instant. "Arial's fine. Avery's fine. We're all fine."

"Oh." Serah's cheeks pinked and she sat down next to her sister, looking at her worriedly. "Are you really okay? You don't look well." Serah resisted the urge to put her hand to her sister's forehead. She imagined Light wouldn't be pleased after Arial had escaped her. Again.

"Just a headache."

"Do you want me to get some painkillers?"

"No. It'll pass."

"Where are the girls, then?"

Lightning finally looked up, her eyes slightly glassy from weariness. "Avery's out back. Arial's still outside, I think."

"Where did Arial end up this time?"

Lightning's lips firmed together, as though she did not want to say it. "Vanille's."

Serah instantly knew why. "Oh. I'm sorry, I should have known. It's just... she shouldn't haven known where Fang went. She didn't ask and I didn't say."

Light smiled slightly, though there was only a trace of humor. "Arial's very smart. We both know this."

"How did it, ah..." Serah searched for the right words. Lightning saved her from that daunting task.

"I don't know what they talked about," she said, rubbing at her eyes. "But they seemed to be getting on fine when I came along."

"Oh." Serah was at a loss as to what to say and felt very much like a bad sister for it. "That's good. Right?" Serah tentatively asked.

Lightning didn't answer. "Arial didn't tell her," she said instead, more to herself than Serah. "Avery was angry. Not at me," she added, catching Serah's look. "You know how she feels about all this."

Serah nodded in understanding, a sad expression on her face. "Well, why don't I make dinner? You can help."

Light threw her sister a bemused look. "I thought I wasn't allowed in the kitchen."

"I'll be sure to watch you closely."

* * *

Cally walked along a beaten path, her steps sure. The woods here was her playground, a place that she loved dearly as only a child could. Not a child, she corrected herself. She was ten years old, almost a teenager like her cousins. That, in her mind, was almost like being an adult. No matter if Avery sometimes called her a kid-Cally can see the faint sneer on her cousin's face already-she was old enough to know what was going on since Fang had woken up. Her mother hadn't answered any of her own questions, but she knew that all the concern that filled the household, from her parents to Uncle Hope and Aunt Vanille, was placed on her Aunt Light and her cousins.

Arial had looked unusually sad when she returned, while her aunt had looked... Cally didn't know the word for it, but Aunt Light had not looked well.

But Avery storming off was something she did understand on a deeper level that she could not quite describe.

Cally stopped before a small copse that was already brimming with new life. If Avery did not want to be found, then she would not be here. Cally walked slowly past the copse to a large oak tree, her eyes trailing up its great trunk. A year ago, she would not have been tall enough to climb it, but if Avery was not thinking clearly...

Cally took a running start and jumped, her hands deftly catching a low hanging branch. Her slim but strong legs kicked solidly against the trunk and she heaved herself up with enough skill that would have had her aunt impressed and her mother despairing after her femininity. She climbed slowly, but her pace was steady. About forty feet off the ground, she finally spotted her cousin's distinctive pink head hidden among growing leaves.

"Go away," Avery grunted from her position, her back resting against the trunk. "Damn it, how do you always find me?"

"We're family," Cally said simply, straddling a branch next to Avery. "I'm not a kid anymore. I can keep up with you now." There was a hint of pride in her words as she said it.

"Maybe I don't want company," Avery said waspishly. "Family or not."

"Maybe I wasn't looking for company," Cally said easily. Avery was, on occasion, quite difficult. It was probably why they got along.

"Then why are you in _my _tree?"

"It's not your tree. Your name isn't on it or anything."

"But I'm _in_ it."

"On it," Cally corrected, even though she knew it was snide.

Avery sneered. "Whatever."

Cally looked unperturbed. "Why don't you want company?"

"Because I don't," Avery snapped with a hint of a sulk.

"Did you get to see Fang?"

Avery didn't answer.

"Ari said she did. She said Fang was nice."

"I wouldn't know," Avery muttered darkly. "She didn't say anything to me."

"Who, Fang?"

"No, Arial, stupid."

Cally scowled, a bit of temper leaking into her expression. "I'm not stupid. It's not my fault if you two are fighting again."

"We're not." Avery kicked at a branch. "We're not," she repeated. "But Arial shouldn't have snuck out."

Cally only shrugged. "Arial'll get in trouble," she answered. "But that won't stop her. I think Aunt Light must have her bugged just like Ari keeps saying."

"Probably," Avery agreed. "Even if Mom says she doesn't."

"Then why are you worried? Aunt Light always knows where Ari is."

"Because I'm supposed to watch her," came her stubborn response.

"Did Aunt Light tell you that?"

"Well-no," Avery admitted. "But still, I'm the eldest. Mom wasn't home yet and Aunt Serah was busy, so it was my responsibility."

"You're only older by five minutes," Cally pointed out. She never quite understood why Avery took that quite so seriously. There were other kids at school who had siblings, but the separation was at least a whole _year_. Not five minutes like her cousins.

"It doesn't matter. I'm still older."

Cally shrugged. Avy was like a mule in that mindset, she'd once heard Aunt Light comment. "If we don't go back soon, we'll miss supper."

"No one's stopping you," Avery muttered darkly.

Cally only looked at her cousin. Avery cursed under her breath.

"Fine. Let's go."

* * *

A/N: This chapter's a little shorter than usual, but as you can see, it's actually only part one of chapter four. Originally, the next part was supposed to be chapter five, but both parts together work better as one chapter except it was kind of... huge. Yeah. Anyway.

INVASION OF THE OC's RAWR. Sorry, guys :( I don't really want to introduce many original characters at once, but Avery was kind of due since I was dancing around the issue so much that anymore stalling would have been unnecessary and potentially annoying. Kudos to those who picked up on the clues I left/slipped up on in the previous chapters! Any errors are mine, of course. I do try to have at least the next chapter already written before I post the previous chapter (yes, that means chapter four part two is completed and I won't post it until chapter five is done). This is so if I have any new ideas, I can work it in without going "OH GOD, BUT I DID THIS IN THE LAST CHAPTER AND I POSTED IT AND I CAN'T DO IT ANYMORE :(:(:(" Yes, this has happened to me before. I don't like it happening, so that's why I'm adhering to this new rule.

So. Anyway. This A/N got fat fast. Some last words: E.G. Szyslak did the posting and a proofread, but all errors are still mine! Yes, I admit it, I have problems with tenses, but I'm trying to fix that :( And, of course, please review. They make me happy the same way Fang makes Light happy. Well, almost.


	5. Chapter 4, Part 2

**Title: Second Wind**

**By: Calore**

* * *

Vanille set a plate before Fang. Fang hardly looked at it, only picking up a fork and began to eat mechanically.

Vanille looked at her worriedly. She'd made Fang's favorite dish, turtle steak with an entirely too liberal dash of salt. Fang hardly blinked as she ate, her mind clearly several miles away.

"Fang?"

"Hm?"

"Do you like it?" She asked tentatively. It'd been a long time since she'd made Fang's favorite. She tried hard not to let her eyes water at the thought.

"It's good." Fang looked at her plate with some surprise. "Turtle steak. My favorite." Fang made an effort to look as though she was enjoying it, though it tasted like ash in her mouth. She knew it was good because Vanille made it and Vanille was the best cook in Oerba. "It's good," she repeated, not sure if it was for her benefit or Vanille's.

Vanille sat down next to Fang, her expression still worried. Fang silently cursed her terrible lying. "You don't have to eat it, I can make you something else. Or maybe you're not hungry? You can rest upstairs, I'll be quiet, I promise."

Fang felt a deep pang of guilt. She forced a smile and began to eat more vigorously. "No, it's good, really. I can eat it. It's just..." _I found out Lightning has twin girls who are the most gorgeous things I've ever seen and one of them's an absolute sweetheart but who the hell is the father? It's driving me half mad because I want to punch the fucker for what, I don't know._

Fang cleared her throat. She wasn't sure if Vanille was the right person or if this was the right time or place. If it'd ever be the right time and place. Either she was getting worse at keeping things to herself or Vanille had gained a new ability to read her thoughts because Vanille gently placed a hand over her own and asked softly, "Is there something you want to talk about, Fang?"

Fang tensed. She forced her hands to relax, the fork clinking against the plate. She breathed in deep and out. And repeated it again, until she realized she wasn't going to feel any calmer. "When I was outside, I-I met a girl. Arial. Cl-Lightning's daughter."

Vanille looked crestfallen. "Oh," she whispered guiltily. "I should have known Arial would have come. I'm sorry."

"I got the impression she's good at... getting away. Like me." Fang smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. "She's a nice kid. Sweet. Smart."

"She is," Vanille managed to say. "Did you two talk?"

"A little. I don't know why she'd want to see me. Her mother and sister came not too long after." Fang didn't even bother to try to smile this time. "Neither looked happy."

"Lightning was here?" Vanille looked even more panicked. "Did she do anything? Are you okay?"

Fang looked at her inquiringly. "Why would she do anything?" She asked softly. She didn't realize that she was afraid of the answer, just a little.

"I don't know, I thought she might be angry and do something, like hit you." Vanille realized what she said and immediately shut up.

"Hit me, eh?" Fang leaned back, her food completely forgotten. "She's that mad at me, is she?"

Vanille suddenly seemed to be very interested in a spot on the wall just beyond Fang's head. Fang smiled bitterly. "Want to tell me why?"

Vanille took a long time to respond. "You were gone for a long time, Fang," she said quietly. "And that's not your fault. Believe me when I say that it's not your fault and we're grateful for what you did, even letting me wake up earlier. But Light waited for you. She really did, Fang." Vanille's eyes shone with barely held back tears.

It would have hurt Fang because tears always affected her deeply, especially Vanille's. But she only felt numb, numb and cold and sick to her stomach. The words were out before she could stop herself. "Guess she had some company while she waited."

Vanille blinked, confused, until understanding dawned on her. "Fang, no, no, that's not it. You can't think that, you just can't-"

Rage reared back like snake, filling her throat with acid bile. "It's exactly what it is," she hissed, her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, fists clenched so tight until nails bit into her palms. The pain only drove her to lash out and hurt. "Nobody will fucking tell me anything because it's exactly what it is," she repeated. "I have fucking news for you. I'm not a kid and I don't need to be goddamned coddled."

Vanille's expression was filled with hurt and even a little fear, but Fang was blind to it. Blind to everything but the boiling rage that threatened to swallow her whole. She shoved away from the table to pace restlessly. "Fine, you don't have to tell me, but you don't have to soften it for me. We're all fucking adults, aren't we?" Fang rounded on Vanille, her voice rising to a shout, and didn't hear Hope's footsteps as he rushed into the room to Vanille's side. "Why can't any of you just tell me that I fucked up again? That I messed it up again because I was trying to fucking fix things and yeah, I don't deserve another chance because I'm a huge screw up. Why can't you just FUCKING SAY THAT?"

Hope was shielding Vanille behind his body, his hand holding her diminutive one protectively. He was tall, taller than either of them and even through the hazy red, Fang was still surprised to see him like that. She saw sympathy in his pale eyes, but also a cool flatness that she recognized.

If she was a threat, he would not hesitate to defend.

"Fang," he intoned calmly, using the same tone when issuing orders to his men. "I think you're, understandably, a little stressed. It's still light out, how about a walk? Or you can rest, too. The bedroom's ready."

It struck her so hard, she reeled. Hope was standing there, protecting Vanille.

From her.

She felt ill. Her stomach felt as though it was a greasy knot, tensing sickeningly. It should be her, protecting Vanille. It ought to be her, keeping Vanille away from harm.

But Vanille was behind Hope with that scared and worried look on her face, aimed at her. She'd never seen Vanille look at her that way. She'd made sure she'd never do anything to make Vanille look that way, at her or anything else.

And it was all her fault.

Wordlessly, she turned on her heel and walked out of the house where she did not belong.

* * *

Fang ran and ran, through unfamiliar woods and over creeks. She didn't know where she was because she didn't belong. Gran Pulse wasn't the Pulse she remembered. It was noisier, more crowded.

It was like Cocoon.

And she hated it. She wanted to be alone, to find solace in silence and meditation, but every time she came across a quiet area, she'd hear the sound of civilization from somewhere. Always the sound of an engine or the chatter of people in a nearby house.

God, couldn't she find one uninhabited spot?

Fang finally came across a high fence and easily vaulted over it with the help of a nearby tree trunk, her boots kicking off the solid wood with a soft _thunk_. Before her stretched an open expanse of land, illuminated by a ghostly moon.

It was the edge of a gorgon breeding ground. Fang recognized it, almost choked on the irony of it. It was the same place where a giant gorgon had nearly torn her arm off when she and Vanille had escaped a fal'Cie's greed, when the ground had been torn off Pulse and the entire village had vanished. They'd walked for days, covered in blood that wasn't all their own, until they were discovered by an Oerban search party.

Fang's lips curled into a sneer. Or it was Anima who had guided them to Oerba, eager to find new human tools. She could still remember how razor sharp teeth felt sinking into her forearm and pulling her up with astonishing strength, lifting her clear off her feet. How young bone had snapped in that powerful jaw. How the beast had dropped her carelessly to the ground for her hungry young when she'd not been able to fight back and the sound of Vanille's screams ringing in her ears. It was hunters from the search party who'd driven the gorgon away, who'd saved both her and Vanille. The impotent helplessness and despair had eaten her alive in those scant seconds when she knew she could not protect Vanille.

Fang had never forgotten the experience. It was one of her many failures, and one that she'd sought to correct. She'd come back on her own, years later, when she was old enough to carry a full-size spear, but not quite an adult. She'd found the same matriarch who'd broken her arm, surrounded by her offspring. The matriarch had not recognized her, but it didn't matter.

She had returned to Oerba with the matriarch's head only because she could not carry the others.

She knew it was reckless to be anywhere near breeding grounds, especially without a weapon, but she could not find it in herself to care. But she knew that nobody would be even remotely close by and so Fang boldly strode through, her hands fisted at her sides.

And she wouldn't admit it, but she was looking for a fight. She almost hoped that a decent-sized pack would decide she might be worth the trouble. She kept walking, her pace quick, almost agitated, until she'd traveled at least half a mile to a steep hill crested with a small cluster of boulders with nary a beast in sight. With a frustrated growl, Fang viciously slammed her boot heel into the rock surface. She repeated the motion again and again until she heard a loud sheering noise. With her breathing wheezing out furiously and her back damp with sweat, Fang glanced down.

There was a large crack in the rock.

Fang snarled at it. She was about to start on the next rock, perhaps with her fists this time, when she heard a low whimper. Fang stilled.

It had come from the boulder.

Was she going mad now? Whimpering rocks? She almost started kicking at it again.

Then she heard another and she knew what it was. She shoved the cracked stone away and found what she was looking for: a hidden underground den, the opening roughly the size of a large dinner plate. Curling her lip back slightly, Fang whistled softly and waited. She heard a soft scuffling sound and whistled again encouragingly.

Carefully, she peered into the dark hole as a small head and a pair of paws emerged.

Fang's face softened. It was a gorgon pup, still small. It crawled out and shook loose dirt from its soft dark fur. It was too young to have been a product of the previous mating season and roughly the same size as a medium sized dog. Most likely a late litter, Fang judged. And young enough to still have more feline features before it would grow into its large tufted mane and a dog's stockier body frame. The pup looked at her quizzically, though its tail was puffed to massive proportions and ears laid back in instinctive fear.

"Sorry about that," Fang apologized, referring to the broken boulder. "You're going to have to find a new hiding spot until your mum gets back."

It continued to stare at her, not budging. Fang eyed it back, wondering if the thing was too young or just stupid.

"I've probably killed hundreds of your kind," Fang remarked before she realized she was talking to an animal and felt as stupid as the pup. "You should be running away from me right now," she muttered. "Hell, I probably killed a few of your ancestors. And those weren't pups like you, they were full grown adults."

The pup circled on a soft patch of grass, sat and began to wash its paw.

"I must be pretty pathetic if you're doing that in front of me," Fang said sourly. "I could snap your neck in three places easily."

It rubbed its paw over its ear and began to purr.

"Maybe I should just kill you. Evolution and all. No pup is this stupid, washing its bloody ear in front of a Yun hunter. You'd probably do the same thing in front of a behemoth and they won't hesitate to snap up a snack like you."

It peered at her with fascinated amber eyes, still purring like a diesel engine.

Fang gave up trying to make sense of the entire situation. She sat back against the rock and rubbed her hands over her face. "Bloody fuck, I'm an idiot."

She'd frightened Vanille. She knew too well what fear looked like and she had never seen Vanille look at her that way. It tore at her that she'd been the one to put that expression on her face. The guilt was engulfing her, gnawing at her like a hungry monster. How could she have lost her temper like that? It wasn't Vanille's fault.

_She lied to you again._

_She didn't_, Fang thought furiously, shaking her head. Vanille hadn't been lying. _She'd said herself that Lightning had to be the one to tell her whatever it was nobody else would. _

_She's your oldest friend, your best friend. Your sister. Would your sister keep things from you?_

Fang pressed her face harder into her hands as though to block out her own thoughts. _It wasn't Vanille's fault. Vanille would never... never..._

_Never lie to you?_It laughed, a dark raspy noise that sounded like scales running over sandpaper. _Well, we know that isn't quite true, is it?_

Fang heard a rustle and looked down beside her. The gorgon pup was quivering, fur standing on end. It stared at her in terror, its limbs frozen. She could see the whites of its eyes as they wheeled back in sheer panic and fear.

"What the-" At the sound of her voice, the pup bolted. It was almost comical how it almost tripped over itself to get away that Fang could only stare after it, dumbfounded with surprise.

It laughed again. _Even the mongrel knows you're dangerous. It knows you're a monster. It knows how much blood you have on your hands. You said so yourself, you've killed countless of its kin._

Fang squeezed her head between her hands, tucking her face between her bent knees. Her breathing became labored. _Shut up._

_Everybody else knows, too. But they're too afraid to say it. Just like Vanille. Because who knows when you'll snap again? Lightning knows it, too. You saw how she kept her children away. _

_Shut up._

_You saw how she looked at you. Like you were a stranger. How she drew those girls away like you were an animal that needed to be put down. But she's so polite, isn't she? She lies, too, you know. She doesn't say what she means. None of them do. They all lie. _

_Shut up._

_They're not your family, they never were. They came with you because they had their own desires. But now they have all they want and they were happy until you woke up. Oh, the words they hold back! - and the thoughts they keep private. You're a monster and they know no other way to tell you.  
_

* * *

Lightning strode quietly, her steps measured. Blades of grass brushed against the tops of her boots, the moon casting her shadow over the field. Her gunblade, no longer at her hip as when she was in full uniform, thumped gently against her backside with each step. She felt more confident when it was holstered at her back, felt more... sure. She could subdue a few overprotective gorgons unarmed, but no longer took risks as she had before.

There was more to protect now.

As she trekked silently, her mind replayed the events of the day, fastidiously re-examining every detail. The morning, when she'd woken only because she'd not slept the entire night. When her body had hummed with the knowledge that Fang was separated by a few walls and a sea of years and unsaid words. Her heart ached when she recalled how Arial had looked at her that morning, disappointment etched in her eyes. And how silent Avery was, not even bothering to respond when Cally had deliberately tried to provoke her.

She had promised to watch them today, had felt the guilt of a broken promise burn more strongly than it should have. But she was thankful that Serah had only understood and that had seared as well, how often and how much she relied on her own sister who had a child of her own, as well as the welfare of several dozen patients to see to.

But in the silence of her office at the Guardian Corps, she couldn't find peace. No one knew that Fang had woken; she was thankful for Sergeant Bristow's discretion, but she knew the quiet would not last. She'd even arrived to headquarters in full ceremonial dress and nearly an hour early in case the news had broken. Soon, she was sure, someone would ask her who it was that the patrol had found. Bristow's report would have to include it and she could only guess if he knew himself who Fang was. For now, it was only her rank and the chain of command that kept tongues from wagging and the storm that would follow.

And then there would be much more than gossip at stake. Her mind worked furiously now, her hand turning her silver tooth necklace over absentmindedly. High Command would call for her, demand a comprehensive report and she dared not lie to General Ramza, her direct superior and commander of the Corps. Depending on his reaction, she could expect a full investigation from the High Council, the provisional governing body for the Reclamation. And if her prediction proved right, Councilman Delita would be at the forefront to demand for funding to rebuild Cocoon, as he had when Vanille had been released from crystal slumber. He would make her life a living hell, she was sure of it. Especially if it got out that she had not reported Fang's return immediately. Delita would find some way to lay the blame on her by citing how she'd deliberately reported it to her superior instead of to the High Council, the viper. Her temples pounded and she dropped the pendant to rub at them.

Maker, she hated politics. She knew it came with her promotion, dreaded it as she had ascended the ranks, and knew well enough that she had a mess that she would not be able to control on her own. The best she could do was try to keep it from touching her family and friends, to keep Delita from smearing their names. He could swipe at her as much as he fucking wanted, Light though furiously, her hand falling habitually to the hilt of her weapon. She would be ready for it.

For now... she turned back to her current task. She'd been helping Serah clear away dinner after sending the twins to bed when Serah received the call from Vanille. She hadn't need to hear the other half of the conversation to know what had happened. Silently, without exchanging a word with Serah, Light had changed out of her uniform, took her weapon, and left to find Fang.

She didn't have to look for long. She'd always had a knack for finding people close to her, which she'd had to put to good use when it came to Arial.

Fang was here. She knew Fang's scent, felt her presence close by. Her stride lengthened until she saw a cluster of boulders. Her heart rate kicked up. Her instincts told her what she already knew and she walked until she saw Fang unarmed and sitting on the ground, her back against rock. Her face was shadowed, but Lightning didn't have to see to know that it was troubled.

"Fang." Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "Fang. Are you hurt? It's dangerous here."

"I know where I am," Fang growled, not moving.

Lightning's eyes flicked over her body, relieved to find no obvious wounds. "Then let's go. Everybody's worried about you."

"I'll go when I want to," Fang snapped. Lightning only raised a brow, surprised at the angry tone.

"Vanille is worried," she repeated. "You know she won't stop until you're back home."

"That's not my home," Fang snarled, rising jerkily to her feet. She had no weapon with her, no spear at her side. But she didn't need one for protection, Lightning knew. Fang was just as deadly with her bare hands as she was with a polearm. "The only home I came close to having was torn up by a fal'Cie's hand." Her fists clenched hard. "A Cocoon fal'Cie."

"And you got your revenge on them," Lightning answered, her face passive. It was rare to see Fang in a temper. "I think we both know who killed Orphan."

Fang let loose a feral sound, something deep and sinister. Her hand slashed through the air as though she was striking something. "You think that's enough?" She shouted, her face twisted into a bitter, angry mask. "You think that atones for losing my family, my entire clan? And Vanille's family and village? You think it's enough after everything they took? All those lives lost because some arrogant pissant decided their world was worth more than ours?"

"No, of course not. But there's nothing else to be done." Lightning's eyes narrowed on Fang's face, though her voice remained smooth and emotionless. "We can only move forward now. Dwelling on the past will do you no good."

"The same way you moved forward?" Fang took a step to Light, her green eyes hot and savage. "You said you loved me. You said there'd never be anyone else but me. Or did you decide I'm not worth it? That I'm just a monster?" Her words slapped out, daring Light to respond.

"I did. I never thought you were a monster." Light met Fang's eyes with her own cold ones. Light's simple response served to only enrage Fang, forcing out a low, furious howl. The warrior stalked to Light, her hand whipping out to seize her lapel and jerked Light's face up to hers until they were nearly nose to nose.

"You fucking liar!" Fang yelled, her fury almost radiating off her body. "How old are those kids? Eleven, twelve? You must have fucked the first dick you saw, you fucking whore. You didn't wait for me at all. Was that all I was to you, just a good lay? A few good fucks to get your goddamn rocks off, some pretty words to string me along?" Fang shook Light, her lips twisted into an ugly, jealous sneer. "If that's what you wanted, you didn't have to fucking lie to me. A 'Hey, Fang, I heard that Yuns are a special lot and you'll give me a good roll, how about it, sport?' would have fucking worked." Fang shoved Lightning away, forcing the soldier to stumble back. "You goddamn lying bitch. I haven't see any fucking body playing daddy, so you and your whelps got exactly what you deserv-"

Fang never finished her sentence. In a quick movement that was almost inhuman, Lightning appeared mere inches before Fang and slapped her. The strike was merciless, the crack of palm on cheek echoing through the night. She'd caught Fang by surprise and the warrior just barely managed to stay on her feet, bringing her hand up to gingerly touch hot throbbing skin.

"Don't you dare call them that." Lightning's voice was a low, deadly threat and Fang had no doubts that she would and could kill her ruthlessly on the spot. "You fucking idiot. God, I don't know how I ever loved you. They have your eyes." Lightning's own eyes burned, nearly turning violet with rage and disgust. "They have your cursed green eyes that I saw every day for twelve years. The twelve years that I _waited_ for you." She spat out the words, every syllable laced with dripping venom. "I didn't rejoice when you saved the world. I never wanted you to save us. But you, you fucking selfish idiot, you kept your goddamn plans from me, never gave me a fucking say in the matter. You decided it for me and I hate you for it." Lightning took a deep breath, turning her face heavenward as though struggling for composure.

She'd never lost control quite that badly before. Anger, hurt, regret, bitterness, it'd all come soaring up in such a rush that it'd taken her by surprise. She fisted her hands, clenching her teeth together furiously until a muscle twitched dangerously in her jaw. She turned her face to Fang, her lips pressed in a tight line, her eyes still deadly. "I raised them. Alone. They needed you to be their father, not a hero."

Fang's knees felt weak. Her entire body felt weak as she struggled to absorb Light's words. Father. _A father_. She was a _father_. Their father. The twins' father. Of course. The pieces finally fell into place.

They had her eyes, hadn't she seen them herself? She was so blind that she couldn't recognize her own eyes through her own stupidity, through her jealousy and her hurt.

Arial and Avery. They were hers. From both her and Light. They'd made them, together. Pride soared in her breast, a belated sense of wonder and joy that nothing could ever replicate. But reason chased closely after it and her throat burned as though it was coated in bile. They'd created children together, but they had not raised them together. Lightning had been left alone in an uncertain world while she was asleep. Entombed in crystal. And the words she'd shouted callously at Light, the accusations and insults, she tasted every single one and loathed herself more by the second.

She'd left Lightning and their children alone.

How could she have been so selfish? She'd thought she'd been doing the right thing, saving the world, saving everybody...

"I'm sorry." The words felt and tasted useless even as her lips moved to say them. "I-I didn't know. I'm so sorry."

Light's eyes shadowed as she looked away, as though she couldn't bear the sight of Fang. Fang couldn't blame her. She couldn't bear herself at that moment.

"I can't believe you thought - " Lightning cut herself off, turning away jerkily. "No. It doesn't matter. They're yours. Ours. I love them. They were all I had after you - left." Fang flinched. _Left. Not gone. Left._ "Whatever it is you believe now, know this," Light continued, still looking away. "I always thought you were worth it. I always believed that you deserved better than what you got."

A dagger to the heart, Fang thought dazedly. With a good twist to made sure you knew you were done for. That's what it felt like. "I didn't know." That was her excuse, over and over. She wished it wasn't because it was a horrible excuse, nothing but empty words. "If I had - "

Lightning whirled on Fang, her eyes blazing. "What? What would you have done? Would you have told me that you planned on turning crystal?"

Fang flinched again, feeling her words as though they were a blow. "I hadn't planned on it. I swear, I wasn't planning it. God, Light, I didn't have a bloody clue what we were going to do when we were back on Cocoon."

Lightning's eyes remained intent on Fang's face. "Why did you do it?" It was a question that had tormented Lightning for years and she had picked an assortment of answers from the noble to the cowardly and perhaps, deep inside, she'd known the answer. But she needed to hear it from Fang, to finally know.

Fang opened her mouth, then closed it. Finally, she said, "I wanted to give Serah back to you."

Lightning froze. Her eyes bored into Fang's, as though she was tearing through Fang's every thought. Her voice was hoarse and low. "You turned to crystal because you wanted to give _Serah_back?"

"I took her from you the first time." Fang looked away. "It's because of me that she got branded. Anima branded her because I didn't finish the job. Because I didn't complete my Focus. I couldn't bear to... screw up again. I had to fix it."

Something flicked on Lightning's face, then it was gone, as thought it'd never been there. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Fang let out a bark that could have been a laugh. "What was there to say? I was the reason that Serah got branded. I was the reason you got branded. Shit, I was the reason _all_of you got branded." She muttered an oath, running her hand over her face. "If I'd done what I was supposed to, if I had just... _not fucked it up_..." She choked. "A lot of things would have been different."

Lightning was silent, her arms crossed. "None of that was your fault. The fal'Cie used us. It wasn't your fault," she repeated.

Fang smiled thinly. "It doesn't matter whose fault it was. I'd have done anything to keep you safe and you deserved to have your sister back. It was why you were there, to save her. I chose." She looked down at her hands, the scarred palms and arms. "I'm sorry that I left you alone. It's just words and it doesn't mean anything, but please know that I... would have chosen differently if I'd - known."

Lightning closed her eyes, bore down the pain in her heart. "What would you have chosen if you'd known?"

"I'd have been more selfish." Fang smiled sadly. "Hell, I don't know what we could have done. But I'd have gone Ragnarok with you, if it was possible. I'd have taken you away from Serah, spent the rest of my life trying to get her to forgive me. But it'd have been worth it as long as you were never alone raising our-" Fang's voice hitched. "Our children."

Lightning's shoulders fell. It was as though a great burden had been lifted, the years of wondering and speculating and hurting was finally...no more. She finally knew and the truth seemed to hurt even more than not knowing. To choose between her only family and her lover? She knew that she would not have been able to make the choice all those years ago, knew that if she were given the chance now, she would still have been unable to answer. Either choice would have eaten at her afterwards and there would be pain no matter what she picked. Fang had spared her that, had granted her a mercy by taking the matter out of her hands. But at the same time, she felt cheated, to not have had a chance. Maybe if she were younger and more naive, she'd have declared that she'd find a way to have both, but what if she couldn't? Would she still have been able to live with what choice she'd made afterwards?

Her heart now heavier than ever, she knew that whatever they were now, it was not finished. This was only the first step on a very long journey. She wanted to bury her face in her hands and cry and laugh and scream - the emotions she felt were almost to bursting. It was as though she'd finally experienced a taste of catharsis, only to have it taken away again.

"Our children," she managed to say. Words she'd wanted to say for so long, words that hurt more when said out loud and brought forth a bittersweetness. But her face and body remained stoic; thirteen years had been long enough practice to keep everything at bay.

"Ours," Fang echoed, feeling helpless as she watched Lightning. She wanted to reach out, to offer comfort, but she knew Light would reject any overtures. So she simply stood rooted to that spot, her arms stiff at her sides.

The monster inside her whispered that she only knew how to destroy, hissed that everything she touched shattered and broke. Wasn't Light proof of that? And the children? It was all evidence that she didn't deserve any of it.

That she was better asleep than awake.

_They'd be happier if you'd never woken. _

Fang watched Light, beautiful in the moonlight, standing before her. Time seemed to stand still; it was as though nothing had passed between them. But she saw her elegant face looking so broken and defeated, and knew.

_The priests were right. You're nothing but a mongrel and a tool. You're not human. You're just a monster and they don't deserve to be hurt that way. They don't need the pain and suffering that follows you._

_Go be a hero and save them again. _

* * *

Vanille opened the front door almost the same instant the doorbell rang. She opened her mouth to say something, her arms opening instinctively to comfort, but Fang only pushed past her, her eyes shadowed.

"Fang-?" Vanille asked hesitatingly to Fang's back. Her hand had brushed Fang's arm and she'd recoiled slightly at the feel of cold skin. Too cold, Vanille thought worriedly.

Fang stopped short, still looking away.

"Lightning couldn't come in. She had to go home to-to the kids."

"Oh. Okay." Vanille wanted to touch Fang, to be reassured that she was all right. But there was something radiating from Fang, something dark and dangerous that Vanille had only seen when Fang had fought on the Arks. Only it had never aimed its gaze at her. Vanille was suddenly very afraid to know what it was that coiled menacingly inside Fang.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you before." Fang's voice was flat and harsh. "I didn't mean to lose my temper. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I know you didn't mean it." Vanille wanted to reach out to Fang, but her arms were like lead at her sides. Somewhere deep down, an instinct quivered. It was the instinct that'd kept her alive for so long and one that she had not felt in many years.

It told her to run, long and hard. It told her that while Fang would not hurt her, her friend was not safe to be near. Tears welled up over Vanille's eyes, casting the room in a watery haze. It was wrong, very wrong, to be afraid of Fang. Fang would not hurt her, Fang would always protect her. She loved Fang and she knew Fang felt the same, so why was she afraid of her oldest friend? Her friend who had protected her for so long from so many things that wanted to hurt them. It was not right.

It was not right, her mind repeated, but still that instinct sang to run, to get away. That Fang was not quite right.

"I think I'll go to bed now," Fang said, her voice still flat. "I'm sorry to be such a burden. Good night."

"You're not," Vanille whispered as she watched Fang walk away, knowing that Fang could not hear her. And it would not be because she had not spoken loud enough.

* * *

A/N: Fang's the daddy! Less than three! I'm sure most of you guys already know since I wasn't being really subtle about it, but at the same time, I was being a total tease about it, too... I guess it was pretty obvious with the biggest clue being the pairing listed, rofl. Kudos to those who already knew/guessed it. I will probably never address how it happened unless I think it'll become detrimental to the story or plot. So, whatever you want to say I did either through some voodoo magicky bullshit or whatever, that's up to you! And this was a fat chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed it because it was such a pain to write :(

Also, I didn't realize how much of an angstfest this was going to be. Perhaps I should change the genre to angst instead of drama or romance... especially since there's no romance at all so far. D:

As always, please read and review!

PS- I forgot to give credit where it's due! The names Ramza and Delita are not mine! They're from Final Fantasy Tactics: The War of the Lions (PSP).


	6. Chapter 5, Part 1

**Title: Second Wind**

**Chapter Five Part One**

* * *

Lightning had not made five feet into headquarters when she saw her adjutant, Lieutenant Maxwell, whip his hand through the air at her. She did not stop, but slowed her pace to allow Maxwell to catch up. She felt the eyes on them, though every gaze lowered in respect as she passed.

"Colonel," Maxwell murmured in greeting. "A fine morning today."

"Indeed," Lightning agreed. Maxwell was, as usual, dressed impeccably, his uniform pressed to an art. He was younger than she was by three years, was unattached and fiercely loyal; she'd chosen him over an ever widening pool of qualified applicants to serve under her command for that very reason. While the Guardian Corps now were much larger and stronger than when Cocoon still hung in the sky, it was for that very reason that Lightning was careful in who she chose to serve directly beneath her.

Many former Sanctum soldiers had looked on resentfully as the Guardian Corps became the de facto police and military force, their own former elite status now severely diminished and their members were distrusted after the truth came out about the Purges. PSICOM and Sanctum were disliked, but not enough to be disbanded, Light mused as she turned into the elevator. Several disillusioned Sanctum soldiers had transferred to GC after Cocoon fell, while the remaining were attached as the personal guard of the elected High Council at the bequest of Councilman Delita, a ranking politician before and after Reclamation. Even though they guarded the Council, the Sanctum was still heavily scrutinized and looked upon with suspicion. Though not publicly acknowledged, the bulk of the Corps knew that there were spies from the Sanctum within their ranks. There'd been spies even before Cocoon fell, as though the act of eavesdropping was a sort of pass off, half hearted and expected. But the Corps weren't nearly so interesting then as they were now.

Her work, Light mused, was no longer clear cut. It was not a matter of seeing the enemy and defeating it anymore. While she held a command post and was an instructor for training specialized forces, she reported directly to General Ramza, the head commander of the Corps. Her additional duties varied wildly and she often rooted out the spies herself, along with whatever else High Command thought fit for her attention. Maxwell came especially handy in those many situations. She eyed her aide as they ascended: he was a handsome man with chiseled good looks and dark hair smoothed back. He had an amiable and charming nature and, as far as she knew, got along with everybody. He was versatile, knew when to keep his mouth shut and had the dubious honor of being the Corps' biggest gossiper. Lightning almost sighed; Maxwell was embarrassingly good at prying information off unwilling tongues.

"Did you go out last evening?" Light asked with mild interest as they strode into her office. Maxwell didn't need any prompting. He slipped a small device from his sleeve into his palm and pressed a small button as he opened his mouth to speak. "I did, in fact. It was rather nice and quiet. And you, Colonel?"

Lightning sat at her desk. "How long do we have?"

Maxwell shrugged and placed the device, about the length and width of a thumbnail, on her desk. "Techs said operating time is about ten minutes, but as long as that light's still green, anything we say won't be picked up."

Light shook her head. "Dump that much money into R and D and ten minutes is all they could come up with? Damn."

"It's hard reproducing technology that the Sanctum won't hand over," Maxwell replied, seating himself on the other side of the desk. "Won't even let us salvage their own research facilities when we have the manpower. They want us to build our own toys. Assholes," he decided with a sneer. "Big fucking assholes." Maxwell wasn't usually so coarse, but almost every GC officer despised Sanctum with a passion.

Lightning only shook her head. "That aside, what is it?"

Maxwell immediately sobered up. "I heard something." He leaned forward, his low voice though their conversation was cloaked. "Someone found an entrance of some sort into the Spire. It wasn't there before."

"Well, that was fast."

Maxwell blinked at her with some surprise. "You knew about it?"

"No, but I thought there'd be some... traces."

"Traces of what?"

Light took a deep breath. She knew she'd have to tell someone. And what they said would be protected by that tiny device sitting on her desk, the light steadily blinking at her. Telling her to go. "When I was a l'Cie," she started, "you recall that there was six of us, all branded by Anima."

Maxwell leaned forward even more, eyes wide. The Colonel never spoke of that time thirteen years ago when she'd allowed herself to be Purged. "Yes, I remember. I saw the news casts."

"And you know that two of us... disappeared. Crystal stasis. And one came back, about six years ago."

Maxwell nodded. "Vanille."

"The other woke up."

Maxwell jerked, nearly fell off his chair. "The other- You mean Fang?" His voice hushed over. "The first Ragnarok?"

Lightning closed her eyes, found it more difficult than she thought to say it. "Yes. Fang woke up."

"Maker," he whispered. "Where is she now?"

"Safe." Light hoped anyway.

"This is... I don't know what this is." For once, Maxwell was struck speechless.

"Bad is what it is." Light rubbed at the tension building in her temple. "Delita."

Maxwell knew what she meant. "Once the Councilman gets wind that the Spire's damaged-"

"We don't know that it is," Light warned. "When Vanille woke, we couldn't find any entrance into it. She said there was a path, but it was gone when we went back."

"Even so, they'll want a research team inside to look for damage. To see if it'll hold Cocoon. And Delita will want her interrogated." Maxwell's voice dropped an octave. "He'll want to take her into Sanctum custody. He'd put her on some sham trial if he could."

Lightning's hands fisted, her knuckles going white. "He won't get to her. She'll be protected." Her eyes flashed dangerously, her voice tight with barely suppressed anger. "She'll have the whole of the Corps behind her."

Maxwell did not doubt his colonel's words. While General Ramza was the commander of the Corps, the colonel held considerable influence. Only bits and pieces of what actually happened when she was a l'Cie were publicly known, but the Corps had thrown her their unwavering support, especially when it was found that she'd willingly allowed herself to be Purged and the truth behind the secret killings that the Sanctum had carried out on suspected l'Cie had broken. That in particular had been a hideous public relations disaster; how one was supposed to go about admitting that their government was killing their own people was a question for the ages.

"When will you inform the general?"

"Today. I have a meeting in an hour."

Maxwell blew out a breath. "That was fast. When did she wake?"

"Two days ago about. Only a few know. They can be trusted."

Maxwell understood. "Lieutenant Estheim?"

"Sergeant Bristow as well. He found her in the Steppes."

Maxwell mentally filed away the names. He would follow up with both later. "How is her condition?"

"My sister checked her personally. She's healthy." Lightning crossed her arms and leaned back against her chair. "I don't know how the general will want to play this. I can only tell him the truth, give him my recommendation. But even if we keep quiet, it'll be found out quickly. We can't hide Fang." Her expression darkened. "We will not hide Fang."

"There may be backlash, especially on you."

"I think my reputation can withstand that."

* * *

General Ramza was a large man. His blond hair was cut short on a strong face, jawbones jutting out sharply. Cold blue eyes peered hawk-like at Lightning and showed nothing. Broad shoulders filled out the blue-grey uniform with large hands folded on his desk. Not a wrinkle out of place. Ramza was not handsome in the way Maxwell was, nor was he young by any means, but he was striking in a way that his face would not be easily forgotten. He was a man men followed unquestionably, someone who commanded loyalty and respect.

"I'm wondering why I wasn't apprised earlier, Colonel." His tone was grave. "Both your oral and written reports were terse. Quite unlike you."

"It's as I said, sir. I believed it was important to ascertain her health first, sir. She was in no condition to travel, to be questioned. I didn't believe the matter was urgent." Light straightened her shoulders more, bracing for a tongue lashing.

Ramza merely folded his hands on his table, his gaze contemplative. "I had wondered if such a thing were to happen. Even when the Dia girl woke, there was always the possibility, but no precedent was set, unfortunately." He watched Light with interest. "Was there something else, Colonel?"

Light managed to hide her surprise that she would not be verbally thrashed. "No, sir. It's just... Fang's awakening may cause a stir. Councilman Delita may try to... put a political spin on it, for his own gains."

"True," Ramza agreed, his tone mild. "Your point?"

"Sir." Lightning stood straighter. "After the events earlier when Vanille woke from crystal, I believe we should do everything in our power to protect Fang. She's a hero. She doesn't deserve to be watched or caged like a criminal or an animal. She saved countless lives, and she could prove to be invaluable to possible expeditions."

"Oh?" Ramza's brow arched. "You've spoken to her about this?"

"Not quite," Light admitted, feeling guilty, but pressed on. "But she was here before, when people still populated this world. She'd know the old roads and trails, and Lieutenant Estheim reported that she does know the area in Paddra well. She'd be invaluable." Light realized she was leaning forward, her hands fisted behind her back in the effort to keep them from gesticulating. She forced them to relax and straightened her posture, carefully controlling her breath. She'd said all she could to save Fang even though her throat still burned to defend.

"Well, you've certainly made your case, Colonel. Corps support would not be an issue in this matter. We look out for our own. However..." He continued before Light could even draw a breath of relief. "She became Ragnarok. Twice. We are soldiers and we see the worth of a man in what he's done, in what he's achieved. We are, strangely, more forgiving in this matter despite our profession. But the people are fickle and they have long memories. Public support may think quite differently than us."

"Vanille became Ragnarok with her. And Vanille was not... attacked. Delita may have tried to drag her off to some Sanctum lab, but her name wasn't besmirched."

"The second time was to stop a corrupt government." Ramza leaned back and crossed his arms. "It was justified. But the War of Transgression has not been forgotten. And any blame for the second coming of Ragnarok will be placed on her, on Fang. It's what Delita needs to win, a scapegoat. Especially with bloody elections approaching."

Light felt impatience rise in her throat, but managed to keep it out of her voice. "The war was over five hundred years ago. And we don't know the circumstances of the first Ragnarok summon. The datalogs from that time have been expunged or lost."

"It was a slaughter." For once, Ramza looked tired. He rubbed at his jaw habitually, a sign that he was weary. "A few centuries can wash some memories away, but not that one. Not when the damage is so easily seen, reminded of. Memorialized even, every year."

"Cocoon wasn't the only one that suffered," Light snapped, her temper flaring. "Whole towns and villages vanished when Cocoon fal'Cie lifted them straight off Pulse. The Cullings. They weren't killed or slaughtered or sacrificed. They were in the way of some fal'Cie's whim to make another world, to bring their Maker back."

Ramza only shook his head. "I won't argue with you, Colonel. What you say is not untrue, but that isn't the issue at hand here." He stood and linked his hands together behind his back, spine ramrod straight. "We must decide what to do with her, and soon. The High Council will want custody of her." He flicked a sheet of paper away, watched it settle back down. "And The High Council can overrule my recommendations and then she'll be beyond our reach."

"I understand, sir. I would propose to sway public opinion to counter that. I've prepared a report on how to handle the public relations part of it." Lightning looked faintly irritated. "I understand there's more here than doing our duty, that there's a political element. I won't allow him to twist this matter out of Corps hands. I'll order a research team to the Spire to head off any doubts of how... seriously we take this matter."

"An excellent precaution. I'll need to be apprised of every step you take. Everything, absolutely every minute detail, must be noted and recorded. We tread carefully here, Colonel."

Lightning nodded. "Understood, sir."

"You've given this matter much thought, Colonel." Ramza turned his eyes to her, his expression unreadable. "And it does not fall into your jurisdiction. Do you care so much for this woman?"

It was a personal question, the kind that the general had never asked her and for that reason, she felt compelled to respond. "Yes. I believe she deserves more. And I believe in my sworn duty, to protect."

"Then I will leave this matter in your capable hands, Colonel." Ramza withdrew a sheet of paper, signed and handed it to Light. "A press release would suffice, I believe. It'll be up to you to introduce Fang into our world now."

"Sir." Light saluted and turned to leave.

"Before you go, Colonel."

Light stood at attention, though her mind had already begun working on possibilities. "Yes, sir?"

Ramza sat back down, relaxing his stiff shoulders. "I don't think you are unaware of the... influence you hold within the Corps and over the public, are you?"

Lightning shifted uncomfortably. "I am aware, sir." She still hated speaking in public regardless. She'd rather wrestle with a rabid gorgon than stand in front of reporters and flashing cameras.

"Good. Most see you as a hero. A fine example of the Corps. You do us all proud, of course." Ramza inclined his head in a gesture that only his closest family could tell as fondness.

She felt a faint flush color her cheeks. "Thank you, sir. It is an honor."

"Perhaps one day you will be the one sitting behind this desk, commanding the Corps." His eyes became serious. "That day come sooner or later, but I think you'll be sitting in my place eventually. You'll not be in the field any longer the more valuable your life becomes, especially the closer that day draws. I hope you think about that, Colonel."

Lightning only shook her head. "I don't want your job, sir."

Ramza chuckled. "It may not be your choice." He smiled at her. "You'd have made your father proud. Dismissed."

* * *

Hope was in his office, finishing his report from the morning's patrol, when Maxwell swaggered in.

"Almost done," Hope muttered, not looking up. He was about to sign off on the form when a very large hand plucked his pen away. "Hey-!"

"Good morning, Lieutenant Estheim," Maxwell grinned cheekily, leaning his hip against Hope's desk. He practically reeked of charm, his dark eyes playful. He held the pen aloft, just out of reach. "How are you this fine morning? Patrol go well?"

Hope struggled to keep the flush down. He knew very well who Maxwell was, especially since he waltzed into his office with alarming regularity. Hope really wished he wouldn't visit him so often because the other man made him uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. But damned if he was going to give him the pleasure of showing it.

"It went fine," he mumbled. Where were his pens? He certainly wasn't going to chase Maxwell for it, the man would just enjoy the exercise. And it was immature and juvenile.

He rummaged his desk for one while Maxwell's grin widened to almost predatory proportions. It gave him chills, that grin, so he studiously ignored him and searched the contents of his drawers in vain.

"Oh, indeed? Find anything interesting?" Like what? Hope thought sourly. What did he want? Why couldn't he just leave him alone? And Maker's sake, where did all his pens go? He felt a rising desperation in this throat.

"Nothing but the usual," he replied, his tone flat and quite uninviting. He hoped it'd make Maxwell go away.

"And yesterday's patrol as well? I heard you have some... interesting things happening. At home."

Hope wondered at Maxwell's tone. What was interesting at home other than Vanille? "No," he said after a moment of thought. He was certainly not going to talk about Vanille to him.

Maxwell lifted a brow, as though he was a student who had answered incorrectly. "No," he said again more firmly and wished he knew what Maxwell was after. Maxwell knew everything about everyone, so why else would he be in here but to pry? And it'd undoubtedly be something Hope was supposed to keep to himself.

"Haven't met anybody new in your life?" Maxwell prodded.

Hope stopped short, then turned to Maxwell, his expression intensely irritated. "Lieutenant," he snapped. "If you are implying that I have been unfaithful or anything else about my personal life-"

"Oh, not at all!" Maxwell chuckled, holding his hands up in defense. "I was simply inquiring. After all, we are military men and comrades work better together when they get along and enjoy each other's company, do they not?"

"You certainly have an odd way of going about it," Hope said grudgingly, his eyes still suspicious. He gave up looking for his pens and fixed a hard stare at Maxwell. "I do have other duties, Lieutenant. I actually have to complete them. My pen?"

Maxwell, holding the pen almost delicately, tucked it in the back pocket of his pants. Hope nearly gaped at his audacity. "After a moment of your time, Lieutenant Estheim," he almost purred. "Unless, of course, you want to get it yourself?"

Hope shook his head mutely. If he were able to get past the indignation, he'd have wondered why Lightning had chosen Maxwell of all people for an assistant. He'd have ticked off all the reasons why Maxwell was so unsuitable, but he only sat and glowered. Maxwell smiled amicably and placed the small device onto Hope's desk. A green light flickered on as Hope blinked in confusion.

"Is that-?"

"Yes. Surveillance cloaking," Maxwell said. "Luckily, I brought a spare today. Bless those pasty faced engineers even when they try to stammer for me to get out."

Hope's brow furrowed. "This is about Fang, isn't it?"

Maxwell's expression sobered. "Indeed. I've already spoken with the colonel. She's reporting to General Ramza as we speak now. You understand how important she is?"

Hope shook his head. "Apparently not, but I was worried. I haven't told anyone, if that's what you needed to know."

"Good, the less people know, the more we can control," Maxwell sat down. "A Sergeant Bristow also knows?"

"I've already spoken with him. He won't say a word and nor will his squad. He did include finding Fang in his report, but he was vague enough that it won't be for some time before someone inquires, if at all."

"Smart to include that. Wouldn't want the man to be court-martialed for falsifying a report. Do you know where is she now?"

"She's staying with me and Vanille. She's safe." A thought occurred to Hope. "Do you think someone would come for her?"

Maxwell shook his head. "No, I don't think anybody would dare strike an officer's home. It does have adequate security, is that right?"

Hope nodded. "Of course. Vanille is safe, but I'm worried about... other ways Fang could be seen. She's not one to stay in one spot for long. I gave her a standard issue phone- not that she'd use it if she got into trouble, but it does have a tracker if we can't find her."

"I heard she's a capable woman."

"She was - well, is. Out of all of us, she was the strongest, the most capable," Hope said, his eyes going distant in memory. "Nobody could keep up with her, except Lightning. Stubborn, confident. If Fang wanted something done, she wouldn't ask anyone to help her, she'd do it herself." Hope smiled slightly, his expression wistful. "I remember when she could drive entire gorgon packs away. She could do things like that, especially for Vanille."

"Oh?" Maxwell looked curious. He knew very little of Fang and damned if he wasn't interested on hearing about a woman who his colonel clearly cared deeply about.

"Yes. Vanille was Fang's life until-" Hope suddenly stopped and looked guilty. "Well. Maybe it's presumptuous for me to say that. Vanille's always been special to Fang. Though last night..." Hope turned away looking troubled. "There was a fight- no, not a fight. It was... I don't know. Something. Fang took off."

Maxwell's brows shot up. "I thought you said she was safe. Was she seen?"

"I don't think so. She left when it was dark. She ran to the northwestern gorgon breeding grounds."

"Good God! Is she still alive?" Maxwell exclaimed, wide-eyed.

Hope waved a nonchalant. "Not a scratch. Lightning brought her back."

Maxwell looked as though he was having a heart attack. "The _colonel_ went there? To a gorgon breeding ground? During _spring?_" His voice sounded strangled at the last word. "Did she at least have squad with her?"

"Of course not," Hope said, looking at Maxwell strangely. "She was armed. But that's beside the point. She took Fang back, though I'm sure some words were exchanged. I don't quite know what, but I am worried about Fang if people find out she's awake."

Maxwell seemed to have shaken off his shock. "If? No, it's 'when'. The colonel plans on proposing to the general that they give Fang a hero's welcome or something similar. They need to draw the public's favor before the High Council can sway them."

"You think they would try to persecute Fang?"

"Not all of them. I'm speaking of Councilman Delita, of course. His mission to return to Cocoon."

Hope groaned. "That quack? Half the people think he's mad, you know. Cocoon can't be recovered, only salvaged."

"And the other half support him, if only silently. Life here is hard, not like when it was on Cocoon when we didn't have to grow and hunt our own food, brave the seasons or beasts."

Hope snorted disdainfully. "As though Cocoon was any better where anyone's goal was to fritter away their time on meaningless entertainment and pursuits. We lived in constant fear that Pulse was going to rise up and kill us, even when the war had been over for centuries, and what did the Sanctum do? Waste funds to make weapons and war research that was never reported to the public while people lived in a caste of who was of nobler blood and class than the next person." Hope sneered. "We weren't humans on Cocoon. We were tools."

"I don't disagree with you, Estheim," Maxwell murmured, his own memories of Cocoon life were blurred, but the feeling of endless despair still burned bright. "Crazy or not, Delita is dangerous. Keep an eye on Fang." He glanced down at the device, saw it flicker a yellow light. "It's almost dead. I have to meet the colonel, but I'll tell her that I've spoken with you." Reaching down, Maxwell almost switched the device off when he stopped short. He pulled Hope's pen out of his pocket and placed it on the desk with a cheeky grin.

"You should put your pens in better places."

Hope blinked at him, confused. "What?"

"Your pens," Maxwell repeated. "You never know when they might be useful. Or when someone could walk in and take them." Maxwell switched the device off and sauntered to the doorway. "After all, your office is so close to the colonel's."

Hope gaped after him. _He stole my pens!_ he thought furiously. _The bastard!_

* * *

"It's a nice day out," Vanille remarked from the kitchen. Fang sat at the dining table, dressed in a pair of worn jeans and white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled back to her elbows. She looked up at Vanille's words. "It is."

"We should go out today," Vanille continued, her back to Fang. "Oh, you haven't seen all the new shops in Oerba! It's so much bigger now, and more modern, than what it used to be." Vanille spoke, her tone bright.

Fang couldn't quite keep the guilt off her face even though Vanille couldn't see. She'd not slept well, or at all, her dreams taunting her with memories of happier days. And it was not just with Lightning and Vanille, but with Snow and Hope and Sazh. Her heart clenched.

Was that the only time where she felt as though she belonged? It hurt to admit it and even more to realize that she may not feel that way again. And perhaps she deserved it.

She closed her eyes against a second wave of guilt. Vanille was her only real family from before and yet she'd lashed out at her the night before. It didn't matter that she'd come back; she'd pushed Vanille away. Given her that pathetic excuse of an apology. She was worthless, just a burden on everyone. Storming away like a child like that, forcing Light to seek her out, making Vanille worry, rejecting everything.

"Fang?" She looked up to see Vanille standing next to her, her hand on her shoulder. She realized she hadn't even felt Vanille touch her, as though she was numb. She forced a smile that fooled neither of them.

"I'm fine. You were saying something about, ah, going out?" At least she hoped that's what Vanille was talking about.

Vanille smiled hopefully, exactly like when they were still at the orphanage and Fang had brought back a gift, or returned with no visible wounds, or both. Fang felt like utter slime. "If you want to, that is. We don't have to go, but I thought maybe you'd want your own clothes instead of wearing Light's."

Yes, she'd very much wanted to get her own clothes because smelling Light everywhere and all over herself made it hard to think about anything else. "That sounds like a good idea. We... we never did go shopping much, did we? Before, that is." _Before I ruined your life. Like what I must be doing again right now. _

Vanille shook her head. "No, we didn't, but that's all right. We can make up for that now!" Vanille turned. Fang impulsively grabbed her hand to stop her.

"Fang?"

Fang rose to her feet, gripping Vanille's hand harder, as though it would give her answers. Her expression was filled with remorse, with anguish, things that Vanille saw too often on Fang's face. "Fang, are you al-"

"Vanille. I'm so sorry." Fang's eyes didn't water, they never did. They were always filled with an almost icy fire, fueled by guilt and regret. Vanille squeezed Fang's hand between her own, smiling reassuringly. "For what? There's nothing to be sorry for."

"For last night," Fang said quietly, her hand flexing. "I'm no good, Vanille. I've been up for hardly a day and I'm already screwing everything up and you don't deserve that, you don't deserve any of this. I'm so sorry." She swallowed painfully. Pain was an altogether too familiar feeling, something she'd resigned herself to. It was now suffocating her that she could hardly tell if her heart was beating anymore. Perhaps this was what she deserved for all her failures, for never being able to do what needed to be done, for never being able to do the right thing. It was only right.

_You monster. Do you even deserve to touch her?_

Fang flinched, her hand dropping away limply to her side. There was a roaring in her ears and the room seemed to blur, just for an instant. She looked down at her hands. Bloody, bloody hands, coated in sticky red. God, even her clothes were covered in it, thick and dripping in fat drops. Vanille was looking at her, but she wasn't Vanille. She looked too young, as though she'd seen too much and her face was covered in soot and tears and dried blood. Her hair wasn't long anymore, the long locks still tied, but just barely. Ribbons, things only a girl would wear, held them back, but the bright yellow satin was singed.

The black priest's spear lay at her feet, separating them. The sound of it clattering to the temple floor still rang fresh in her ears. The temple floor. Anima's temple.

_You didn't save her then and you never will._

"Fang? Fang? Fang!"

Fang blinked. Vanille was shaking. Why was she shaking? She realized Vanille was shaking her, not the other way around. She dazedly placed her hand on Vanille's to stop her. "I'm fine," she muttered. "Vanille, I'm fine."

Vanille looked at her with such obvious concern and worry that Fang felt another stab of guilt. She couldn't even apologize right. "Are you sure? You look pale. Do you want to lie down?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm all right. Don't need to lie down." She tried to smile, felt the stiffness in her cheeks and the reflection of it on Vanille's face.

"We don't have to go out today," Vanille said, still holding Fang's hand. "It's still early. Maybe you're feeling some aftereffects from being crystallized?"

Fang didn't think so, but she nodded to reassure Vanille. "Yes, I think so. It'll go away, I'm sure." _Liar._

"Well, I'll be sure to mention it to Serah and maybe she can give you something for that. Are you sure you don't want to stay in today?" And wallow in her own guilt for keeping Vanille in? Fang shook her head.

"No, let's go out today."

* * *

**Author's Note:** So I was kind of slow on the update this time. I don't really remember what distracted me, but I'm pretty sure it was Portal 1 and 2. GLaDOS is love. And... it may have been the fact that I got a root canal recently. That sucked. Being painfree is seriously taken for granted... :(

On a more serious note, I actually had quite a bit of difficulty with this chapter and that's probably because of the introduction of some OCs. Don't worry, they won't show up (much) so if you hate them, at least you won't see them every chapter or something. Yay? Overall, I'm not sure if I'm _really_ satisfied with how this chapter went. For now, I'm just glad that it's up here (and so I can stop feeling bad about it). In the meantime, as you can see, this chapter got too bloated again and had to be sliced in half. Um. I don't really have all that much to say about it other than that Fang is a little messed up...

And thanks goes to E.G. again for proofreading and posting this for me! This would (literally) not be here without her! LOL? ILU E.G.


	7. Chapter 5, Part 2

**Title: Second Wind**

**Chapter 5-2**

* * *

Vanille took Fang to various stores and, probably knowing how difficult it was for Fang, talked enough for both of them. She chattered endlessly, saying happy, cheerful things that sometimes brought a smile to Fang's face. Fang felt even worse for not being able to keep up with Vanille. For making her try so hard.

"How about some jeans, Fang?" Vanille asked, holding up a pair. "Just a few sturdy pairs since you used to tear up your old ones."

Fang took the coarse denim in her hands automatically, looking at it a little blankly. She'd never shopped for clothes before. She wondered what she was supposed to look for. She couldn't quite remember when the last time she'd worn jeans was either.

_"Why do you wear that?"_

_Fang looked up at Light, sitting just above her on a rocky ledge. It was near dusk, the sun spilling glorious orange over the Steppes. The rest of the party had settled into camp some distance away, their voices just barely audible from where they sat. Fang picked at a bit of her sari, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "You mean this?"_

_"Yes. It doesn't look... practical. It's nice, but I can't imagine you preferring that over something simpler." Light's voice gentled a bit, as though she'd realized her question might have been rude. Her expression became sheepish. "Though you do fight well in it." Offering a retreat._

_Fang thought about how to answer, deciding on the truth. "I don't like it," she started. "It wasn't exactly my choice. I was... made to. When I became a l'Cie." _

_Light tilted her head slightly, genuinely curious. But she knew when she'd touched something that was still sensitive. "I wouldn't have thought you'd let anyone make you do anything." She teased gently."But if you don't like it, I'm sure we can find a change of clothes in the wreckage since it was a military ship." Light offered an encouraging smile. "We could take Bahamut back in the morning. I don't think anybody would mind salvaging for a bit."_

_Fang had to look away, to gather her bearings. She wasn't sure how to respond, how to say that she continued to wear it because it was to remind herself what she had not finished and what her goal now was. Some days, she hated the ceremonial sari, hated how it felt like chains for both her and Vanille. And on other days, she thought nothing of it, as though it was simply a part of her. "No, that's all right. We should keep moving to Oerba," she decided. "I'm all right with this, for now."_

_Light nodded understandingly. "What kind of clothes would you prefer?" Light asked. _

_Fang blinked at the question, realizing that she had no idea. Her cheeks pinking almost imperceptibly, Fang wondered how to phrase it without sounding like an idiot. "I don't really have a preference," Fang admitted. "When Vanille and I were in the orphanage, we got castoffs. Vanille's handy with a needle, so she'd just sew together clothes to fit everybody better. I... I suppose I just wore what was comfortable. Something that helped me blend in during hunts."_

_Light laughed softly. "I'm like that, I think. I wore what was clean, presentable. Serah... Serah would say that my fashion sense was horrid and I was lucky that most of everything I owned was picked out by our mother, or her. So anything I wore didn't clash terribly." Light's eyes turned up to Cocoon, became wistful. "Cocoon has a lot of shops," she said. "If we ever get back, we should go to a few stores. Find out what you like."_

_Fang felt her palms get just a little damp, her face just a little warmer, at the implication. She'd never gone shopping before unless it was for supplies. She'd never bought something for herself simply because she liked it. And she'd certainly never done it before with anyone other than Vanille. She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and nodded. "I'd like that."_

_Light smiled back, pleased. And perhaps it was just the sinking sunlight on her face, but Fang thought she saw Light flush, just barely. "I'll hold you to it, Fang."_

Fang rubbed her thumb over the denim, her eyes a little distant. Light's words echoed in her mind.

"_Find out what you like."_

Fang didn't know what she liked. Like someone who'd lost their memories and didn't know what made their identity, Fang had never known what she liked. She'd had no preferences, no likes or dislikes. She could only remember training, hunting, protecting. Was she even a person? What was her identity? What made her who she was? She thought, tried to remember what it was that defined her.

She was the last of the Yun clan, but she wondered often if she was what a Yun was supposed to be.

She was Vanille's friend and protector, but had she protected her enough? Had she failed even in that?

She was a former l'Cie, but had not brought salvation to Gran Pulse.

She was Ragnarok, a monster that should not be allowed to exist.

But she was also a father. She'd not been one to Arial and Avery because she had not been there. What was her role now? What was she to Lightning now? An enemy, someone hated? What was she supposed to _be?_What was her purpose? Was there even one?

"Vanille." Fang finally looked at her, her expression intense. "When you woke up... were you happy?"

Vanille looked startled. "What do you mean?" she asked, uncertain.

"When you woke up," Fang repeated. "Were you happy that you did? What did you look forward to? What did you want to do? Here, Oerba, it's not like the Oerba we knew. It's different now. Did you still want the same things?"

Vanille opened her mouth, then closed it. She thought for a long moment about her answer, suddenly knowing that it was important what she said. "I was happy. I was happy because I would get to see everybody again. That I would get to live with the people I love," she said simply. "I can choose how to live the way I want. Even if it's all changed now, even if all the people we knew back then are gone, that doesn't mean what I want has changed."

Vanille was happy. She was truly happy. Fang felt relief and something close to happiness wash over her. This was what she'd done most of her life, wasn't it? To make Vanille happy, to give her the things she'd lost when Cheis disappeared? Yet, she still felt sadness weigh heavy in her chest. She let it hold her as though it was all she had left.

And then she realized why.

It was all that she had left. Vanille had left her behind. Vanille had found something that drove her forward, something that made her _want_to live.

And she had nothing.

"What are you talking about?"

Dazedly, still reeling, Fang looked at Vanille. "What?"

Temper colored Vanille's cheeks, her eyes looking hard at Fang. "You said you had nothing. I said, what are you talking about?"

She'd spoken out loud? Fang felt confused. She hadn't realized that she'd spoken. Why had she said it? "It's-it's true. I don't have anything. I'm not a Yun. I'm not a l'Cie. I-I'm not even really a person." Fang looked down at herself, saw the clothes she wore. _Castoffs_, she thought desperately. _Light's castoffs. That's exactly what she was. _

"Well, you're wrong," Vanille snapped, her voice rising almost hysterically. The store's patrons began to look at them, attention drawn. "What about Light? What about the kids? You're their father!" Vanille jabbed a finger hard at Fang, her eyes narrowed. "There, I said it! They're yours! Yours! You're their damn father!" Vanille folded her arms and glared at Fang, as though daring her to say otherwise.

Fang only stared back with dull eyes. "I know," she mumbled almost too low to hear. It still felt odd to say it, as though it was a forbidden, secret thing. But, Fang thought with a strange flutter in her chest, it felt good. It felt good and right. And she felt ashamed because she had no right to feel that way. She didn't deserve to be happy.

"Then how dare you accuse her of sleeping around!" Vanille now had her hands at her hips, looking as ferocious as a mother bear. "Lightning waited for you! She waited and waited and now that you're back, you can't be so selfish as to just _leave_them. You're half responsible for them, you know," she shouted, jabbing a finger hard into Fang's chest again. "They're _yours_. You're their _father._ We're grateful that you saved us, but Light waited for you for almost _thirteen years._ She raised them alone. ALONE! Are you going to just leave her again, just like that?"

"She hates me," Fang whispered, trembling. "She said so. Last night."

Vanille rolled her eyes at Fang as though she was an idiot. "No, she doesn't. Light loves you. Why would she wait so long for you if she did? She never said it, but we all knew she was waiting." Suddenly, Vanille's eyes watered. "Goddamn it, Fang," she whispered. "How can you say you have nothing when you have so much to live for? What about all of us? Doesn't family mean anything to you?" Vanille tried to suppress a loud sniffle.

Fang would have hugged Vanille until she saw the scowls, all aimed directly at her. _"Deadbeat,_" she saw one woman mouth to another. Fang almost choked on the irony, but managed to get both of them out of the store before someone called for security. They walked outside together, awkwardly. Vanille was still giving out the occasional sniffle that sent a stab of guilt into Fang. The street was familiar, one that Fang had walked before with Vanille, but it wasn't littered in cracks and potholes. The storefronts were all new, merchandise gleaming in the sun. Even during the war, Oerba had not looked as clean and inhabited as it did now and it was a far, far cry from when Fang was last here.

They found a quiet spot under shade and, without hesitating, Vanille sat down on one end, still wiping at her eyes. Fang sat at the other end, her head bowed.

"I called Sazh this morning," Vanille said with a slight hiccup. "He wants to see you. He said he'd come over as soon as he can with Dajh."

Fang felt another pang of guilt. She wondered if she'd ever not feel guilty, especially since she had not thought of Sazh since she woke up. "All right." She hesitated, then said, "It'd be nice to see the old man again."

Vanille sniffled again. "He'll be happy to see you," Vanille said, sounding slightly miffed. "Just like Light was."

Fang looked at Vanille incredulously. "Light looked like she saw a ghost when I showed up."

"She was probably surprised."

"That, too. I shouldn't have woken up."

Vanille looked at Fang sharply, her eyes clearing. "Don't say that. It's not true and you know it. You have every right to be here."

Fang shook her head. "I don't. I don't deserve to be here. I shouldn't be here. I-I've done so many things, Vanille. Unforgivable things." Fang looked at her hands, saw the callouses and the thick, wet blood. She could smell the stink of freshly spilled blood and bared intestines fouling the air. Her throat closed in revulsion, but she didn't choke. The pair sat quietly together in the sun, the chatter of birds and people around them. How odd it was, Fang thought, how it felt so disjointed before her. One day, Oerba was filled with refugees and orphans and the fanatics and the hopeless. Then it was filled with just despair, because all of them became cie'th. And now, it was filled with life again. Was it all because of her?

"I know, Fang," Vanille said quietly. She shifted down the bench to ease her arm around Fang's shoulders and pressed her head against Fang's hair, just like they always did before. "But it doesn't make you a monster because you're sorry."

Fang let out a humorless laugh that sounded more like a hoarse rasp. "I'm a monster whether or not I regret what I did, Van," she muttered. "I chose my path."

"But you're not a monster," Vanille repeated. "You did all those things in the past because you had no choice and I was too weak. You protected me. You saved me from doing those things. You, especially you, deserve a second chance. Don't you want to spend it with Light?"

The question was almost cruel in its kindness. Fang's throat burned and for an instant, she thought she felt tears at the back of her eyes. How odd, Fang thought. She had not cried in years. Couldn't remember what it was like to cry. "I don't know if she'd have me anymore." _I don't know if she hates me, if she even wants to talk to me again._"There's more now. More than just happily ever after, Van. Those kids, already half grown."

"They're still yours. You can get to know them. They're good girls, Fang."

Fang did want to know them. She had no idea where to even begin, how to even approach them, but there was an almost desperate, insatiable hunger to know Arial and Avery; to find their interests, their likes and dislikes, their habits and quirks. She wanted to know everything about them, but was terrified that Lightning wouldn't allow it. Fang whispered, "Do you think Light might not... let me?"

Vanille frowned. "Let you? Let you see the girls?"

Fang nodded mutely.

"That's silly. Of course she'll let you." Vanille squeezed her arm around Fang. "You have a right to them. You're their father."

"But I was gone. I didn't... I missed watching them grow up."

"It doesn't make you any less their father. I'll talk to Light about it. I'm sure she'll want you to spend time with the girls." Vanille stood up and held out her hand to Fang. "I promise."

Fang looked up at her best friend, her eyes searching. With a start, she realized that Vanille was no longer that girl she protected before. The shining innocence that triggered every protective instinct was gone and replaced with a young, mature woman who looked at Fang the way a mother would. It wasn't Fang who was protecting now; it was Vanille.

Fang took her hand and rose, letting the sun bathe its warmth over her skin. "You've changed."

Vanille smiled. "We all have. But not as much as you think."

* * *

"How was school?"

"Fine," Avery mumbled, her eyes looking out the car window. Another sunny day, but cool enough that her mother had made sure they didn't leave the house without jackets. "The usual."

"What kind of usual?" Serah glanced at the rear view mirror. "Come on, Av. Don't make me go begging for scraps."

Avery rolled her eyes. She didn't quite manage to do it with the sullen look that her older teenage counterparts had probably long mastered, Serah observed, and imagined that Light would make sure she never would. "Boring classes. We didn't learn much, but track was fun. I set a new record again." She smiled proudly.

"Oh yeah? Smoking the competition?"

Arial snorted from the other side of the car. "Only the ones in our grade. You still can't beat Reyna's time," she said, referring to an older girl. "She destroys you in the hundred meter."

"Shut up! And she's older, that's not fair!"

Cally, who'd been quietly sucking down her soda, swiveled around from the front seat. "She's only a year older," the younger girl pointed out, her eyes dancing humorously. "And she's really, reallllly fast, Mom," she said, her eyes wide on her mother now. "You should have seen her go today. Avy only got second place."

"Better than fourth like you did, twerp," Avery snapped. The loss still stung like a fresh wound.

Cally only sneered back. "First loser."

"That makes you third loser!"

"But I'm TWO years younger. What's your excuse?"

"Kids," Serah warned, aiming a look at both. "Did you run today, Ari?"

"She was busy _studying,_" Avery said derisively. "I don't get why you like the books so much. We already spend the entire day in classrooms eyeballing textbooks."

"Yeah, and your grades show how much you care." Arial crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing on her sister. "Did you 'forget' to tell Mom about that C you got last week?"

"What's this?" Serah asked, turning her head to look at Avery. "A C? In what? Was this a test?"

"Shut up, Ari!" Avery snapped, her cheeks flushing.

"Mooning again?" Arial taunted, enjoying the red flush that spread over Avery's cheeks. She lowered her voice so Serah wouldn't hear. "You can't beat Reyna if you're too busy staring at her back instead of the finish line."

Avery's face flamed brilliantly. "Shut up," she hissed back. No way was she going to talk about Reyna in front of her aunt. She threw a furious look at her smirking twin's face. It wasn't even fair anyway, she thought. Reyna was taller and older and she didn't have to train as hard as Avery did. And Reyna ran effortlessly, gracefully, and she was too pretty for her own good. It just wasn't fair, Avery scowled.

Arial smugly turned back to the book on her lap. Serah only sighed. Her sister's-no, Light and Fang's-, she mentally corrected herself, children were a handful and frequently dragged her own child into their squabbles. It appeared that physical features were the only similarities the twins shared. Arial was like a more mellow, but mischievous version of Lightning while Avery was... Serah pursed her lips. She supposed from what she'd seen and heard of Fang, Avery was like her father. The thought brought a smile to her face; it warmed her heart to see the parents in her nieces. In the mirror, she could see how the stubborn line of Avery's jaw was set just like Fang's. Fang was hot-tempered, Serah remembered Vanille saying. Hot-tempered, stubborn and tended to brood until something distracted her, like hunting.

Easing the car to a stop at a light, Serah tapped her fingers lightly over the wheel. She thought of the previous evening, when her sister had left to find Fang. Serah had waited up for her, worried that Fang may have been injured. But her sister had returned alone with a troubled expression on her face.

_Serah rose, the mug of coffee at her side forgotten. "Sis-?"_

_Light looked at her, her face registering surprise. "Serah. You didn't have to stay up. You have an early shift tomorrow, don't you? At the hospital."_

_"Don't worry about it. Did you find Fang? Was she hurt?"  
_  
_Light shook her head. "She wasn't hurt."_

_"Are you all right?"_

_"I'm fine." Light looked weary. "Nothing happened. Fang is with Vanille now."_

_She didn't look fine. Maybe Light could hide it from anybody else, but not Serah, not her own sister. She saw shadows under Light's eyes that hadn't been just a few hours before and a tightness around her mouth, as though she were holding something back. Deliberately, Serah poured a cup of tea out of a teapot and placed it before the empty seat beside her. "You look tired. Sit down."_

_Automatically, without thinking, Light obliged. She wrapped a hand around the warm glass and didn't realize that her fingers had been cold. But she didn't drink. _

_The sisters sat in silence as a wall clock ticked quietly in the background. Serah simply waited._

_"I told Fang," Light blurted out. She looked surprised, as though she hadn't meant to speak. "I told her," she repeated, much more quietly. _

_Serah knew. "That's good," she said, smiling slightly. "It's good you told her. How did she take it?"_

_Light's brows furrowed, her eyes on the untouched tea. "I don't know," she finally said. "She was surprised, I suppose. She didn't think they were hers. The idiot." Scowling now, Light took a swig and scalded her tongue. The pain seemed to fire her and drive the words out. "She thought I found the nearest man and went on my merry fucking way."_

_Wordlessly, Serah got up and opened a cabinet, taking out a glass of brandy. She set the bottle down before her sister; something told her they would need it. _

_Unflinchingly, Light told her everything. She laid it out mercilessly like an oral report. She poured the brandy into her tea and took the occasional gulp to force herself to finish it. Serah sat listening, interrupting only to ask a question, and waited until her sister finished. _

_"How do you feel about it?"_

_Light took another deep gulp, felt the brandy burn a trail down her throat. "About what?"_

_"About Fang being back. Are you glad that she came back?"_

_"I don't know." Light tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling, her shoulders resting against the chair. "I got used to her not being here. I waited and it hurt every goddamn day, but I got used to it. I worked on making it a little more bearable and I guess... I guess I got to that point where it was okay. Not great, but okay." Light pressed the heel of her hand against her temples, wondered if she'd be paying for the alcohol in the morning. She rarely drank. "I'm a little mad, actually."_

_"At what?"_

_"All that work about moving on from Fang. She comes back and blows up in my face, like it was never there." Light sighed. "I'm pathetic."_

_Serah placed her hand over her sister's knee comfortingly. "Are not. You're the strongest person I know."_

_"Only because your husband's still afraid of me."_

_"Only a little," Serah protested. "He's almost completely grown out of it."_

_"Almost." Light looked contemplative. "I guess... I am happy that Fang came back. Not to start things over or anything," she added hastily. "Just... I missed Fang. I missed her a lot. But I'm glad that she's back, even if it all goes to hell."_

_"Nobody's expecting you to jump back into each other's arms, you know." _

_"I know. But I don't know what to do. How to act." Light gestured vaguely, then blinked rapidly. "Wow, I'm a lightweight."_

_Serah couldn't quite prevent a snort of mirth. Light examined her glass as though she could plumb its contents for the secrets of the universe. "I haven't had that much, have I?"_

_Serah examined the bottle. They'd drunk quite a lot, she mused, though Light certainly had had more than she did. "A few shots, maybe." She hoped._

_"Oh." Light poured herself more tea. "But back to the point. I don't know what to do about Fang. She's my ex. Who's now almost thirteen years younger than I am. God." Light changed her mind and tipped the bottle into her glass. "Thirteen years. I feel old." She took a deep swig like it was an oath._  
_  
__"You're not old," Serah said loyally, and eyed the bottle. "And you don't have to plan everything. Why don't you just... wait and see? Go with it." _

_"But I need a plan," Lght protested. She rested her elbow against the cool table and fiddled with her glass idly. She blinked. The room seemed to be swaying just a little, she pondered, and stopped playing with her glass. "Spontaneity's good when you're in a fight. This isn't a fight. I think." Was it?_

_Serah threw caution to the wind and helped herself to more brandy. "Like how you planned on getting knocked up while saving the world?" _

_Light scowled. "Shut up."_

_"Uh-huh. You still haven't told me anything about it."_

_"And I plan on keeping it that way," Light muttered. _

_"Aww." Taking a more measured sip, Serah held the glass between her hands, looking at her sister over the lid. Light was by no means old. The years had refined her features and smoothed away some of the roughness and anger that'd been present when she was younger. It was Fang's loss if she let the age difference keep them apart, but she imagined that Fang would see what Serah saw and more: a beautiful woman. "I bet Fang still wants you."_

_Light blinked blearily at Serah. "Maybe," she mumbled. "But there's more - baggage now. There's more of everything now, actually."_

_"If you mean the girls, I'm sure they'll like Fang. Arial probably already does." _  
_  
__"Avery doesn't."_

_"She's young. She's only just met Fang."_

_Light snorted. "Avery is determined to not like Fang." She sighed again. She understood well that feeling of a new stranger, an interloper, suddenly in her life and threatening to take away what was precious to her. Her glass was empty again and she felt too guilty to reach for more brandy._

_"Well, I'm sure Fang will bring her around. The girls will be spending some time with Fang, won't they?" At Light's silence, Serah swiveled her head to stare at her sister. "Light, you can't."_

_"What?"_

_"They're Fang's girls, too. You can't keep them from her."_

_Light scowled again. "I wasn't going to. I just... hadn't thought of that." And felt guilty for it._

_"Well, okay. But it might do the girls some good to spend time with Fang."_

_"If Fang wants it."_

_Serah looked at Light sharply. "You think she won't?"_

_Lightning only brooded over her glass. "I don't know how she feels about them. But she does seem to be interested in them. I'll talk to the girls about it. And I'll ask Fang." Once she managed to work up the courage for it. _

_Serah squeezed her hand understandingly. "It'll work out. I promise."_

_Light didn't answer, her head no longer floating pleasantly as before. "Serah," she whispered quietly, almost too low to hear. "Fang said she'd have chosen differently." _

_Serah didn't need an explanation to know what her sister meant. "It means she cares about the girls even though she's just met them."_

_"I know." She raised her eyes to meet Serah's. "She said she wanted to give you back to me."_

_For a long moment, Serah was speechless. "I don't know what to say," she finally said._

_"She blames herself for you being branded before."_

_Serah frowned, confused. "Why?"_

_"Because she didn't finish the job the first time, is what she said." Light pushed her glass away. "Mostly because she's an idiot."_  
_  
__"You mean when she was Ragnarok during the first war?"_

_"Yes. If she had finished the job the first time, we'd have been all dead." Light couldn't help but smile, just a little, at that bit of reasoning that flew over Fang's head. "We wouldn't be here."_

_"Well, of course." Serah still looked confused. "Does she know that?"_

_"Probably not, no."_

_"Oh. That sounds like a martyr complex, honestly."_

_Light fiddled with the handle of her glass. "Just a little bit," she admitted. "She hates herself."_

_Serah simply waited. _

_"You know, I never thought I'd have kids." Light smiled despite herself. "I really didn't. I didn't think about it, not the way you did, but when it did come up, I... I thought I wasn't suited. To be a mother."_

_"That's not true."_

_"No, it is." Light shook her head. "I know what the other soldiers at GC said about me. I was cold, focused. I was hardly home, really, to even see you. And when you met Snow, it just flew over my head. Blindsided me, when all the signs were there. I'm sorry for that."_

_"No, I understand. Maybe I didn't really back then, but I do. You were working to take care of me alone and none of that was your fault."_

_"Maybe so. But what they said about me was true. I was cold. I was focused. I didn't care about anything else but making sure you would be taken care of. I didn't have anything else left but you, Serah." Light drew in a shaky breath, managed to keep her composure. "I didn't know what to do when you were branded. It felt like it was a giant cosmic joke, like the rug had been yanked out from under me and I didn't even realize that I'd hit the floor. Snow helped me there, to find a path to save you, and if you tell him, I will deny it until my last breath." _

_Serah couldn't help but laugh. "Of course."_

_Light gave a satisfied nod. "I met Fang. I was suspicious of her at first. Didn't know what to make of her. But I told her all these things about myself that I'd never told anyone else, things that I'd never even thought of on my own-" Light stopped and stared straight ahead. "Fang made everything seem simple. I felt like I could stand up again and do what I needed to. And when I did, I saw Fang and how broken she was and nobody knew." It hurt even more to say it now because it was still true. She could see those sad eyes as though they were before her now. "I wanted to help her."_

_"Vanille said Fang looked happy when she was with you."_

_"I didn't have enough time," Light continued quietly, as though Serah hadn't said a word. "If we had more time..." she trailed off, eyes distant. "Things would have been different." There was a trace of guilt that she'd been unable to save Fang. The guilt had existed alongside the grief that she may never see her mate again, and the hurt that perhaps she'd been abandoned, however well intentioned it was. Her emotions still felt raw from the exchanged words, her heart not quite steady. She wondered if there was something wrong with her when she realized that she wanted nothing more than to turn to Fang. She remembered how it felt to be tucked into Fang's side, warmth seeping into her bones, melting them. _

_She'd had no one to lean on for years. She wondered if Fang would still feel the same. If she'd ever feel her again. _

_"Lightning?" Light turned her eyes to her sister._

_"Do you still love Fang?"_

"OWW." Avery clapped her palm over her eye and glared furiously at her twin with her remaining eye. "You didn't have to throw your textbook at me."

Arial sneered back. "You were trying to copy my answers. Again. I was just trying to help you. I thought maybe it would, oh, I don't know, impart some brains into that empty head of yours."

Cally looked at her cousins with rapt interest. "She really nailed you, Avy."

A vicious battle was going to break out any second, Serah's maternal instincts screamed, unless she stepped in and tore those animals in her backseat apart. "Girls," she said sharply, eyes narrowed at both in the rear view mirror. "Your mother will hear about this."

Both promptly shut up and shot heated looks from their respective corners.

Serah sighed. Sweet, girlish temperaments, she thought sadly, were quite absent in this generation of Farrons.

* * *

Author's Note: OMG, I just noticed that there's only ONE line break to separate two scenes. ONE. Man, I'm used to putting in like... five. lol. Go me! My scenes are getting so fat, they could be a chapter (almost)!

Anyway, I don't quite recall what I wanted to say about this scene. It's actually been quite a while since I wrote it, so my original thoughts seem to have vanished like cheesecake in front of a fat chick. I did enjoy writing the Light/Serah late night drunk!confession. Some parts seem a bit iffy there, but I'm glad that it's finally out here. THIS IS FOR YOU, NIBS :D

Thanks go once again to the esteemed E.G. Szyslak for proofreading and getting this posted in the first place. ILU!

P.S. - This fic will not have a sad ending. Those suck :(


	8. Chapter 5, Part 3

**Title: Second Wind**

**Chapter 5 Part 3**

* * *

Maxwell shuffled papers about. He glanced at the clock, then back at the paper pile. He cleared his throat. Tapped his foot.

"What?"

Maxwell cleared his throat. "Why are we doing this press release exactly?"

"Because I say so," Light said, not looking up from her computer. It was late in the day and she'd long shed her heavy uniform. Wearing only her blouse with her throat bare, Light's eyes were hot and gritty from staring too long at a screen. Her temper fared no better.

"You're not nearly that immature, Colonel," Maxwell said primly.

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because I'm wondering why this isn't being handled solely by the media liason. Weren't you banned from speaking on behalf of the Corps?"

Light finally looked up, scowling. "That was years ago."

"Yes, well, not everybody's forgotten how you threw your weapon at Delita's head at that conference."

"It wasn't loaded," Light muttered darkly. "The only damage it'd have done was knock some sense into his damned head."

The corner of his mouth quivering, Maxwell managed to firm his lips together. "Your weapon has a pointy end, you know." He ignored Light's low growl and instead examined a report. "General Ramza personally authorized this?"

"No, I'm acting behind his back and going rogue." Sarcasm dripped thick off her voice.

"Oh, lovely. At least I'm now an accessory to your mad scheme."

"I thought you'd get a little thrill out of it."

"You know me so well, it warms my poor bachelor's heart."

Light only curled her lip derisively, but managed to hold her tongue.

"In any case, what shall this rogue press release say? How do we paint a pretty picture of Ragnarok, our destroyer and savior?"

Light pinched the bridge of her nose irritably. "We don't." She wondered if she had painkillers somewhere for the nagging headache that plagued her. "We tell the truth. And maybe some emphasis on the savior bit couldn't hurt."

Maxwell's playful tone gentled. "Will Fang be there with you?"

Light looked back at her screen. She'd asked herself that question herself, if she could manage it without Fang. "I think it's best if she's there before the cameras. So they can see that she's not some monster, that she's human. It'd certainly look better than my 'disagreeable face' before the masses." Light muttered sourly.

Maxwell laughed. "Delita certainly has said enough about your 'disagreeable face' indeed. But I agree on that part. Fang must be there so the people can see her. Perhaps bringing along the other l'Cie would be beneficial."

"I was thinking of that. We'd look more like a unit, wouldn't we?"

"I think so. It'd say, 'Look at us, look at how human we are, how we have contributed and what we have given to be a part of this world. A world we've helped rebuild.'" Maxwell picked up the small rubber ball that Light kept on her desk and tossed it from hand to hand. "It's a good angle. The media liason will agree, I'm sure."

"Glad I have your approval. Now be useful." Light jabbed a finger at a pile of paper on the edge of her desk. "Finish those."

"Absolutely not." Maxwell folded his hands this time, his face carefully blank. Lightning glared. "That was an order."

"That would be the remains of your own paperwork that Amodar told _you_to do. He specifically ordered that I'm not to do them for you."

Light sneered. "He did not."

"Did too."

"I can have you assigned to latrine duty in some far about outpost instead of sitting in this cozy office."

Maxwell clapped a hand over his heart dramatically, his handsome face anguished. "That was quite low, Colonel, but I'll not fall prey to it. I actually quite like being a lieutenant."

"Then what bloody good are you?" Light exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air. "I have to finish writing this damned press release and have it for the media liason by this evening if we're to make the next morning news. Be useful, damn it."

Maxwell examined his nails nonchalantly. "Perhaps we can reach a compromise, Colonel," he demurred. "After all, I have my own reports to file."

"I told you already, Snow is married to my sister. As much as it pains me to say it, he's my damn brother-in-law and he doesn't play for the other team."

Maxwell looked horrified. "Colonel, I wouldn't dare steal your beloved sister's husband away! What do you take me for?"

"A damn useless adjutant at the moment. What do you want to extort out of me this time?" Light growled.

"Well, seeing as how our office is so close to Lieutenant Estheim's-"

"No," Light barked.

"-I was wondering if you'd-"

"No, damn it!"

"-at least tell me if he was planning on marrying that girl of his."

"What does the proximity of our office to Hope's have anything to do with that?" Light asked suspiciously.

Maxwell only smiled serenely.

"If I tell you, will you finish it?"

"I always keep my word."

Lightning seemed to debate with herself for several moments before leaning forward conspiratorially. "You didn't hear it from me," she warned, eyes narrowed.

"Discreetness, of course," Maxwell replied, leaning forward as well.

"But I did hear from my sister after she spoke with Vanille that..."

"Yes...?" Maxwell listened with rapt attention.

"Hope wants a dog."

Maxwell blinked. Then he blinked again. His face colored. "What the hell does that mean?"

Light flicked a finger at the pile. "I'll tell you if you finish it."

"That was horrible," Maxwell sniffed, snatching the pile off her desk. He rose to stalk off to his own office. "Absolutely horrible, Colonel. I hope you lose sleep over it."

Lightning only bared her teeth. "Not a wink."

Maxwell slammed his door with a decisively sulky bang.

* * *

Late that evening, Lightning walked into Serah's kitchen to find her sister waiting for her again.

"You didn't have to wait up for me," Light said lamely, knowing that Serah would always wait up for her every night.

"I like the late hours," Serah replied, the same one she said to her older sister every night. She poured a cup of hot tea for Light as she sat down across from her. Light murmured thanks and drink carefully. Serah's tea was always hot, never lukewarm. Light didn't know how she did it, but she suspected it might be the same maternal skill that Serah wielded over the entire family.

"More work?"

"Always." Light looked at her tea and her headache wished for something stronger. "I told Ramza about Fang."

"What did he say?"

"He ordered a press release. Hiding Fang... would not be the best idea. It's tentatively scheduled for tomorrow morning."

"That was fast."

Light nodded. "Can't risk it getting leaked or anybody breaking it before we do."

"You'll be giving the press release?"

"Unfortunately."

Serah couldn't help but laugh. "You hate speaking in public. I still remember when you threw your gunblade at that politician, the crazy one."

"I still have to do it. With Fang. She needs to be there with me."

Serah sobered. "Have you asked her yet?"

"No."

"I hope you're not going to force her into it."

"I won't." Light fidgeted. "I should ask her. Soon."

"It's late. You should ask her now, in fact."

Light glowered. "How are the girls?"

"Changing the subject now?"

"I'm asking about my children. Answer me."

"Don't have to be so grumpy. If you must know, Avery has a C on a test, I don't remember which subject. She also now sports a tender, and swollen, eye."

"Where did she get that? Was she in another fight?"

"From your sweet darling Arial."

Light pressed her hand to her forehead. "Maker."

"That's what I said. Arial hurled a textbook at her sister. I already looked at it and it's fine. Arial did toss the book quite handily." Serah's tone was amused, if a bit exasperated. "Are all our children barbarians?"

"Must have gotten it from their fathers," Light retorted. Her tone gentled. "I'll see Fang tonight. If I remember right, she sleeps late. I'll see the girls first before I leave. Don't wait up for me."

Serah stifled a yawn. "You don't have to tell me twice."

* * *

Light knocked twice on the bedroom door before entering. The twins shared a room and had not yet asked to have separate ones, though Serah and Snow certainly had the space for it. Arial was sitting cross legged on her bed over a book while Avery sat with headphones and a sulky expression.

Forgiveness, Light mused, had not been given. And from the serene look on Arial's face, it wasn't wanted either. Light sat down on Avery's bed and patted the spot beside her.

"Come here," she said simply. With a dirty look aimed at Arial, Avery crawled to sit by her mother. Lightning tilted Avery's head back to exam her right eye. Gently, she stroked her thumb over the slightly puffed skin. Avery jerked slightly and hissed out a breath between her teeth.

"Hurts," she grunted.

"I know, baby," Light said softly, and brushed her lips lightly over the hurt. "While I wish you two wouldn't smack each other about, sometimes a good thwack works better than a lecture. What did you do this time?"

Avery bristled like a small pink hedgehog. "Nothing! I was just talking and Ari threw the textbook at me!"

"Liar," Arial shot back, looking up from her book. "You were copying my answers and you said school was stupid and you didn't need it. And you called me a tattle for telling Aunt Serah about that C!"

"You didn't have to throw your book at me!"

"You deserved it!"

Light only placed her hand on Avery's shoulder and both girls immediately silenced, darting heated looks at each other.

"No matter what you feel about school, Avery, it's a bit more important than sports. No more copying work from your sister." Avery only gave a stiff nod. Light's brow rose and she tugged at a pink lock. "I didn't hear anything."

"Yes, Mom," Avery said, grudgingly.

"It's late now, but we'll talk later about that C." Arial almost snorted at the horrified look on Avery's face.

"Don't think you're off the hook," Light said to Arial. "Even if Avery deserves a smack, I don't want you throwing books at her. Or with anything else," Light added, seeing the quick gleam in her eye.

"Yes, Mom," Arial echoed. "But you threw your gunblade at Councilman Delita once. And I remember you said that he deserved it."

Light stilled, a smile twitching at her lips. Even Avery snickered beside her. Resolutely, she fixed a disapproving frown on her face and aimed it at her children. "That was different," she said primly, and deftly changed the subject. "Did anything else happen at school today?"

"Avery came second at the hundred meter," Arial smirked. "Lost to Reyna again."

"Shut up," Avery grumbled.

"Hm," was all Light said. She gave Avery's hair another quick, affectionate tug. "You'll beat her soon enough. Now, off to bed."

"Will you be driving us to school tomorrow?" Arial asked, closing her book. "Do you have more work?"

"I don't think so." Light rose to allow Avery to pull back the covers. "I've work early tomorrow morning. And why do you say I have more work?"

"You haven't taken your coat off," Arial pointed out. "You don't take off your coat when you have to go again."

Light smiled ruefully. Arial was so observant that it still surprised her. "Yes, I have more work to do tonight. But I'll always be here if you need me, and so will Aunt Serah and Uncle Snow."

"Are you going back to the office?" Light pulled the covers up for Avery out of habit and did the same for Arial. She used the motion to ponder her answer and decided for the truth.

"Not quite."

"Are you going to see Fang? For work?" Even facing away, Light could feel Avery stiffen. She sat down on Arial's bed, eyes on her youngest. "Yes. Does that bother you?"

Arial shook her head. "No. I like Fang." Light didn't know why, but the words made her heart squeeze just a little bit. Bending down, she pressed a kiss to Arial's forehead, something that she had not done in some time because they'd complained they were too old. But Arial didn't say a word of protest to the tender gesture. "I'm glad." And she was surprised that she meant it.

Getting up, she turned to Avery, saw the stony mask she wore. Light's heart squeezed again, but she bent down, brushed the hair back and touched her lips to Avery's forehead. Avery was silent, only watched her with unfathomable green eyes. Light rose. "Sleep," she murmured and closed the door gently behind her.

Quietly, she left the house, glancing behind her shoulder to watch the faint light in Serah and Snow's room dim and shut, then to the twins' dark window. Drawing the car keys out of her pocket, she strode to her car and left.

* * *

Hope sat comfortably by Vanille on their couch, his arm around her shoulders. The television murmured quietly, but neither paid it much mind.

"Light's doing a press release for Fang tomorrow morning," Hope said. He'd waited until Fang had gone to her room before telling Vanille.

"Is that really a good idea?"

"Light seems to think so. She said it's best to announce it before it leaks. She wants us to be there with her."

"Oh, but I took Fang out today. Was I not supposed to?" Vanille asked worriedly.

Hope shook his head. "Just today was probably fine. It's been thirteen years. I don't think many people would remember Fang, much less what she looked like or even her name. I remember the Cocoon news casts didn't even list yours or Fang's name, just the ones who'd been from Cocoon." Hope shifted to get more comfortable. "Did you enjoy your day?"

Vanille seemed to debate with herself before finally speaking. "I told Fang that she's the twins' father."

Hope blinked. "I thought Light wanted to tell her that."

"Apparently, she did already."

"Then what's there to worry about?"

"I kind of... yelled it. To Fang." Vanille looked guilty.

"Where was this?"

"In a crowded store," Vanille mumbled.

A long pause. A corner of his mouth twitched. "Maybe not the best place to tell her, even if she already knew," he said soberly, though Vanille could hear the laughter in his voice. She sat up straight to face him and scowled. "It's not funny," she sulked, whacking her hand against his chest. It only served to make him grin wider.

"Actually, it is very funny," Hope said cheekily. "Did many people stare at you? Maybe think you were going mad for accusing another woman of being a father?"

"It's not funny!" Vanille couldn't quite prevent her own grin from showing. To hide it, she hit him again. Hope caught her hand and dragged her against his side, his lips pressed against the side of her mouth. "It really is, but I'll say it isn't if it makes you happy," he murmured, turning his head to kiss her more thoroughly.

Vanille felt her bones melt, felt her muscles relax and warm as she responded. Her eyes slid shut and she dug her fingers into the warm cloth stretched across his chest. Maker, he was large now. She remembered when he'd been nothing but a boy, thin and scrawny, and how she hadn't spared him a second thought. But Hope had grown into man's body and had not lost his boyish sense of honor and right and wrong. When she'd woken, he'd be one of the first people she saw and she'd wondered who this man was and how was it that he knew her name. He'd helped her become accustomed to this world, and to a life without Fang. She loved him for it, for helping her stand on her own, and for making her realize that she could feel such emotions.

She'd been a war orphan, long used to having loved ones taken away suddenly and mercilessly, either by an unseen enemy or a mad priest who claimed it would save them. She'd thought her heart too hardened to love anybody but Fang, her only constant, had thought the only way to live was to lie and never dare to hope. But Vanille had learned how to be happy and how to love and it was all because of Hope.

She tugged at his pants, her lips never leaving his. Her legs straddled his lap as his hands cradled her jaw. "Vanille," he whispered, his voice sounding as though he was in agony. His other hand steadied her hip as her own busily undid his pants. "Vanille," he groaned again, burying his face in her neck. "Maker, not here. Fang's upstairs and she has hearing like a cat's-"

"She's probably asleep," Vanille answered desperately, and would have gone further until she felt his hands grab hers. "Probably," she repeated, staring at their joined hands sadly.

"We're not used to having someone else in the house," Hope said ruefully, his voice full of apology. His body suddenly stilled.

"What is it?" Vanille said dazedly, her ears still roaring. She tugged at her hands, wished she could stroke them over his lean body.

"Someone's at the door," Hope said. He tried to move to get up, but Vanille merely wrapped herself around him.

"Leave them there," she pleaded, her hands tugging at the back of his shirt.

Hope shook his head as though to clear it. "No, it could be important if it's this late. Maker, it's probably Light, actually. She said she'd come over to talk to Fang." Regretfully, he untangled Vanille from him and kissed her hard. "Go upstairs. I'll be there soon," he promised. He turned to leave when he felt fingers hook at the back of his pants. He turned slightly, confused.

Giggling, Vanille scooted forward and fastened his pants. "I don't think Colonel Farron would appreciate the view," she teased. She patted his bottom to send him on his way even as he colored like a schoolboy. Mumbling an apology, Hope hurried to the door, conscious of the increasingly loud pounding. He tugged his shirt over his pants and hoped fervently that Light wouldn't notice.

"Evening," he greeted, opening the door wide. Light wordlessly walked over the threshold, her coat only partially buttoned, leaving her neck bare, despite the cold.

"Sorry for coming so late," came her pithy reply. "Left HQ not too long ago. Hope I didn't interrupt anything." If it was possible, Hope would have blushed deeper, but the foyer was thankfully dark.

"No, there was, ah, nothing. Fang might be asleep now, she's in the guest bedroom." Blood was slowly returning to his brain and Hope remembered his manners. "Do you want something to drink?"

"No, that's fine." Light nodded towards the stairs. "I'll keep it short. I'd prefer to talk to her alone. I know the way."

* * *

Light made her way to the guest bedroom, hesitating when she saw no light from the door. Squaring her shoulders, she knocked. Seeing how quickly light was turned on, she knew that Fang had not been asleep. The door opened and Fang appeared, wearing loose pants and shirt, her hair tousled. They stared at each other for a long moment until Fang finally stood back.

Closing the door behind herself, Light could feel the tension in the air. Her palms suddenly felt sweaty, her heart tripping in her chest. The words she'd repeated to herself to say all day and on the drive over suddenly vanished and left her throat dry and shut. Her body seemed to quiver in memory as her eyes took in the sight of Fang's strong, vital body. To distract herself, she gave the room a sweeping glance, taking in every detail: a simple full size mattress, matching nightstands with lamps, a dresser and mirror with a small corner desk with an older but serviceable laptop. A closet door, closed, on one side and a closed window facing the back of the house. She spotted a Corps issue cell phone on the nightstand and couldn't quite suppress a small smile; Fang had a distinct distrust of small electronics.

As Light examined her room, Fang drank in the sight of her long uniformed body. Even if it was covered in layers of clothes, Fang found herself desiring Light more than ever. She itched to slowly bare her as though she was a long coveted gift, to savor every moment before she reached the body hidden beneath. She wanted to relearn every inch of her flawless skin, to inspect how the years had changed her body because she knew the discovery would thrill her beyond even the most dangerous of hunts. She swallowed audibly, though Light didn't seem to notice. It shouldn't have surprised her that she still wanted Lightning, perhaps even more than she did before. The fact that they'd made children together only served to arouse her beyond belief, to know that this woman was the mother of her children.

But her words came back to haunt her and the guilt stroke as hard as a physical blow. She started to speak, but Light spoke first.

"I'm sorry I woke you. I should have called."

Fang only shook her head. "No, I wasn't sleeping anyway." She tried for a small smile. "You know I don't sleep much. Night watch duty, always."

Light merely nodded. "I'm sorry you still have insomnia. I'll try to keep this brief. You'll need the rest later on." Gesturing, Light sat on the chair by the desk and Fang lowered herself to the bed.

"A lot has changed since you saved Cocoon," Light began. "Most for the better, I'm glad to say, but we still have some... idiots in power."

Fang snorted. "There'll always be some idiot in power."

Light smiled gratefully, relaxing slightly. "Yes. One idiot is Councilman Delita. He's powerful, though with some interesting ideas how we should move on with our lives. He wants us to go back to Cocoon, even try to lift it back to the sky."

Fang muttered a word that had even the coarse soldier in Light lifting her brows.

"He claims the Spire - the crystal holding Cocoon, that is - is precarious at best and that Pulse is not fit for human settlement even though we've survived here. It's hard, especially without fal'Cie, but we're doing well. When Vanille woke, she said there was a hollow path that she followed. Delita had all sorts of scientists go inspect it, going wild that the Spire couldn't possible hold if it was hollow. We never found anything, but that's been his platform ever since."

"There was a path when I woke up. It led me right to the Steppes."

"I've already sent a team to check it, but I haven't received any reports yet that anything's been found. But the reason why I'm here is because we need to talk about how to best announce your return."

Fang jerked back as though she'd been slapped. "I'm not a bloody hero and I don't want a hero's welcome if that's what you're getting at," she said, her tone harsh.

Light shook her head. "No, that's not what I'm looking to do. When Vanille came back, there was a lot of publicity, a lot of reporters hounding Vanille until a complete media blackout was ordered on anything regarding her. Luckily, there wasn't any public backlash on her, but my main concern is Delita. I think he'll try to attack you in the media."

Fang let the pause stretch out. "Because I became Ragnarok," she said flatly. "Twice."

"Yes." Light said it simply. "Because you became Ragnarok. There are certainly people who wished that fal'Cie never fell and probably blame you - and all of the l'Cie - for trading that pampered, meaningless existence for this one. And there are some who still remember the War of Transgression as a one sided atrocity, who don't remember how Cocoon was created in the first place. They'll be the ones who will want your head on a pike and Delita would be at the forefront of the mob, waving the torches and pitchforks."

"Maybe that's what I deserve."

Now it was Light who jerked back. "You can't believe that."

Fang turned her head away. "It's true, though. I did almost destroy Cocoon. I may not remember it, but I killed a lot of people. I must have." Fang turned back and smiled coldly, her eyes empty. The words seemed to be spoken by another person. "I failed at a lot of things, but if there was one thing I was good at, it was killing. I certainly succeeded the first time, didn't I?"

Light was stunned to silence. She looked at Fang, her lips pressed tightly together. Finally, she said, "Whatever it is that you deserve, others care about you. Vanille cares about. I care about you. I'd appreciate it if you'd at least have the courtesy to keep yourself alive until you prove that you really are not worth living."

The words cut deep. It cut deep enough that Fang could only wonder why she'd said them in the first place when she remembered her words with Vanille clearly. She opened her mouth, then closed it.

"I... don't know why I said that," Fang said slowly.

Light's expression softened slightly, but her tone was still brusque. "I don't know either. But we need to settle the matter at hand. Because the fact you've woken up will leak sooner or later, we need to break the news and spin the hell out of it before Delita can."

"All right."

"I've scheduled a press release for tomorrow morning."

Fang paled. "Tomorrow?"

"At oh eight hundred." Light checked her watch. "In about eight hours, actually."

"In eight hours?" Fang's voice squeaked.

Taking pity on her, Light withdrew a copy of her speech from her satchel. "You don't have to talk, you know. It'll just be me speaking with most of the l'Cie standing up there with me. I wanted to tell you myself, so Vanille and Hope didn't mention it. Sazh won't be able to make it, unfortunately." Fang still looked faint and pale, so Light moved to sit next to her on the mattress.

"This is what I'll say. You can read it. I can revise any parts you want changed."

Fang took the sheet of paper dumbly and stared blankly at the words. She forced her eyes to focus and read it.

Light suddenly found herself nervous as Fang read. She felt like a student in class, waiting for a teacher's grade. She linked her hands together to keep them from showing her anxiety and waited.

She thrust the paper back at Light. "It's good," she muttered. "Except I'm not a savior or hero. I told you that."

A breath of relief left her before she could stop it. Taking the paper back, Light tucked it back into her satchel. "I need to spin it, remember? But most of it is true. None of it was exaggerated or false."

"I'm not a hero," Fang said again.

"Repeating it won't make it true."

Fang scowled. Turning to spit back a retort, Fang saw Light's profile. Hair falling softly down to frame her face, the straight nose, her lowered lids as she bent to close her satchel, the elegant line of her throat.

_"Aren't you cold?"_

_Fang looked up, her lance laid across her lap. Light was standing behind her, arms folded. Her breath was visible in the evening chill. "No."_

_Light made an incredulous sound and sat beside Fang, her feet resting on a lower ledge. "It's damn cold here. Are you sure it's spring?"_

_Fang chuckled and placed her lance beside her. "It is. It's a bit cooler here than it is on Cocoon."_

_"That's for sure," she muttered. She grabbed her cape and wrapped the thin cloth around herself, looking, adorably, like a petulant child. Fang scooted closer to Light and fingered the cloth. _

_"Why do you wear this?"_

_Light glanced at her. "The cape?"_

_"Yes. I haven't seen it on any Cocoon soldier."_

_Light looked faintly embarrassed and for some time, Fang thought she'd refuse, but she finally spoke. "My squad made me."_

_Fang chuckled. "Your own soldiers? I thought you were their commander."_

_"I am. Was. That's why." Light shifted to get more comfortable, mentally cursing her skirt. "They said I was too fast to keep up with in training sometimes. On Cocoon, we never saw much real action, so it was training usually. One day, my corporal said, jokingly, that I was like a hero on some kid's show, always stealing their thunder when a superior officer came to observe and since my name is Lightning..." Light looked even more embarrassed now. "Someone in the squad pinned this on my uniform when it was getting repaired for a tear or something like that. So that they could see me better - not that mattered to them if it'd make me an easier target - and since it was always behind me, it was my 'thunder'."_

_Fang laughed. She laughed so hard that her belly ached and Light only smiled wryly. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Fang tugged at the cape again. "Why didn't you take it off if you didn't like it?"_

_"It was funny at first," Lightning admitted. "And the squad seemed to like it, even if it was impractical. I guess it just stuck."_

_"It suits you. Hero." _

_Light huffed, muttered something about that being Snow's line, and tucked the cape tighter around herself. Fang nudged her gently. "It won't be a while before your shift. You'll be warm at camp."_

_"Snow snores."_

_"Oh. I didn't know that. I've never heard him." _

_"You're never there when he does."_

_"Oh. That's true."_

_Light eyed Fang suspiciously. "Are you really not cold?"_

_"Yes. I'm used to it." _

_The moon was nearly full and lit the Steppes as bright as the day from their position on a high ridge. As Fang observed Light's profile, the moonlight shone on her, accenting the curves and contours of her face and turned her hair nearly to silver. Fang was breathless. _

_"Sit closer."_

_Light frowned. "We're sitting next to each other."_

_"Closer. I'll keep you warm."_

_Light looked wary. Fang tried for an encouraging smile. _

_"I won't bite. I promise."_

_That got Light moving. Grumbling, she tucked herself into Fang's side, still clutching her cape. They'd sat together like that silently for hours. Eventually, Light's cape fell away as her body warmed, her eyes watchful as Fang's limbs relaxed, finally sleeping. _

Fang still remembered how Light's body fit against her that night, how it felt as though she belonged there.

She started when she realized Light was rising.

"You should get some sleep," Light said. "Hope and Vanille will take you to the press conference tomorrow."

"Before you go-"

Light stopped. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry. For everything I said last night."

Light's expression didn't change, but she nodded. "It's late. We'll talk about that another time."

Fang could only nod back. "Another time, then."

Light eased the bedroom door shut and Fang waited until she heard the front door close, wishing she could watch her car leave.

* * *

Author's Note: So I lied. It looks like chapter five is actually three parts. I really did intend it to be only two, but this chapter didn't feel like a separate chapter because chapter five didn't quite have that resolved feeling. But oh well! We're finally moving the plot along! Things will happen! It makes me happy.

I'm not sure if there's any other fic out there that has a similar idea as to why Lightning wears that cape of hers, but if there is, I apologize. It was certainly not intentional plagiarism and I thought it was original, but if not, then credit is due to whoever came up with it first.

Also, I found it weird to write the Hope/Vanille scene. It's definitely new to imagine Hope as an adult rather than that really annoying kid from the game. Hopefully (haha), it wasn't too awkward...

Thanks goes again to E.G. Szyslak, who looked this over and reminded me that I should never try to post things on my own. ILU.


	9. Chapter 6

**Title: Second Wind**

**Chapter Six**

**By: Calore**

* * *

"I'm sorry to drag you into this when you just got back."

"It's fine. Don't worry about it, kid. It's about time these old bones got moving again." Light smiled at the nickname and resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder. Sazh saw it, and placed a hand on her shoulder gently in sympathy and comfort. Light leaned into it gratefully.

"It's not easy, is it?"

Light shook her head almost imperceptibly. "No. No, it's not." A voice in the back of her head grilled her for letting her weakness to show, but she didn't care. She felt safe to show what she felt to Sazh, especially after how he'd supported her when she found out she was pregnant. Sazh, most of all, understood the fear and loneliness.

"It'll get better. I promise."

She tried to smile, though it came out looking forced. "I'm not sure if it will."

Sazh, mindful of the milling studio assistants around them, did not draw her into his arms as a father would. His girl was always a bit prickly when others were watching. "Maybe not easier. But better."

Light distracted both of them by smoothing out the rumples in Sazh's jacket. "You're going to be on television in front of millions of viewers."

Sazh flashed a grin, crinkles edging from the corners of his eyes. "And they'll love me."

Light managed a laugh. "Yes, I imagine they already do. Are you sure you want to let Dajh up there, too?"

Sazh glanced at his son, who was flirting outrageously with a pretty makeup assistant a short distance away. "I think you should ask him that," he replied dryly.

Light followed his gaze and smiled a bit. Dajh had certainly grown into a man, now nearly half a head taller than his father and with a lean athlete's build. He'd lost some of his teenage lankiness, though it wasn't all quite gone. His hair was cropped short, but he radiated the easy charm and friendliness that endeared just about every female who came across his path. Luckily, Dajh was no heartbreaker, or not an intentional one. Even when he was young and sometimes looked after the twins when they were small, Dajh had been careful not to provoke jealousy or show favoritism. He always sought to smooth out harsh words and emotions between anyone he knew.

A natural peacemaker, Light thought. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the double doors open and Hope and Vanille walk in. Vanille immediately saw Sazh and squealed like a girl.

"Sazh!" She rushed at him with the exuberance for seeing long missed beloved relation and flung herself into his arms, almost tipping both backwards. "I thought you weren't going to make it! Oh, it's good to see you. Is Dajh with you? Have you had anything to eat yet?"

"Whoa there, little girl," he laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in pleasure. "One at a time. Light here managed to get a ship to come pick me up with Dajh. He's right here, breaking another heart. And we did have something to eat on the way over, so you won't have to worry about my stomach growling on air."

Dajh approached them and Vanille also tossed herself into his arms, chattering happily. Sazh and Hope clasped arms around each other, murmuring easy greetings. Sazh saw over Hope's shoulder and saw Fang shyly approaching them.

She walked slowly, like a student approaching a teacher for punishment. Dressed in dark slacks and a creamy blouse purchased during the day before, Fang looked civilized and uncomfortable underneath it. Her hair still fell to her shoulders in loose locks, looking a little neater, as though she'd tried to wrestle them down and given up. Her face and mouth was unpainted, completely free of any cosmetics. Despite her efforts, her exotic complexion and eyes only made her look half tame.

Feeling a sting behind his eyes, Sazh strode to Fang and seized her in his arms. "My God, you haven't aged a day."

Fang felt the ice that'd lined her belly thaw, her arms carefully coming around to hug Sazh back. "Just a few. You look like you've aged more than that, though."

Sazh adopted a mock stern look as he drew her away to look at her. "Are you calling me old?"

Fang grinned back cheekily. "I'm calling you ancient."

"You always had a smart mouth," he laughed. "We're glad to have you back."

Fang turned her head to Dajh, who was smiling at her. She blinked a few times, recognition finally dawning on her. Suddenly feeling shy again, she cleared her throat and would have apologized, but Dajh only folded his arms around her as his father had done.

"I know we haven't officially met," he said, his voice soft, "but I've heard a lot about you." Pulling away, he was just a few inches taller than Fang, sharing the same warm brown eyes and complexion as his father. "I'm glad to finally meet you. I'm Dajh." His smile was quick and easy and demanded nothing.

She saw no accusation or anger. Swallowing the lump that'd formed in her throat, Fang managed to smile back. "Fang. The last time I saw you, you weren't taller than my hip."

A few chuckles went up as Dajh grinned. "Yeah, I had a few growth spurts. Welcome back, Fang." 

* * *

Serah and Snow arrived a few minutes after Fang had, both rosy cheeked from the morning chill. Snow had placed a reassuring hand on Fang's shoulder before moving off to allow a studio assistant to lead them to the stage.

Another assistant approached Light, who was perched on a stool silently reviewing her speech. "Show starts in ten, Colonel," she chirped, a set of headphones around her neck. "Crew's prepping everybody and cameras are ready to roll. Be sure to be up there at least two minutes prior for a sound check." Light nodded an acknowledgment and would have returned to her copy when she saw Fang sitting pale faced on a nearby chair. Her eyes looked slightly glassy, her expression oddly blank.

The sight reminded her of a soldier about to go into his first battle.

Tucking the paper into her pocket, Light walked to stand before Fang. Fang took several moments to finally blink and look up at Light, her eyes still slightly unfocused. Light felt her heart melt; Fang looked just like Avery did before her first day of school, terrified at the prospect of being away from home for the first time and trying desperately not to show it.

"I'm all right," Fang said. Light could hear the slight crack in her voice.

Lightning sat down beside her. "This is nothing," she murmured softly, gestured toward the stage and the bustling crew. "People will see you, but you won't see them. You won't have to speak; just look as you always have. Proud. Confident."

"I'm not any of those things."

"It doesn't matter if you are. It's a stage, a show. We look our parts and play through it and that's all that matters. For us, for this, we need to look strong. Human."

Fang watched the former l'Cie sitting comfortably, each quietly speaking to each other or someone from the studio. She'd never seen such things before, the cameras and wires and lights. It was all alien to her. She was sure Gran Pulse had these things because television and newscasts existed, but not on the same scale as Cocoon had. Her palms, sweaty, slid against her thighs nervously. It all terrified her because she did not know what to do. The heat of Light's body beside her did little to soothe her galloping heart, her shaky breaths. She wanted, above all things, to not screw this up for her. To not fail.

"You'll be all right. I promise."

_Her lips pressed tenderly against her own, arms coming around her. "We'll be all right. I promise."_

Her throat was strangely tight and she had to force the words out. "What if we aren't? What if we're making the wrong choice? I don't want to go back there, Claire, I don't-"

"I don't want to either," she admitted, leaning against Fang's body, wanting to draw in her familiar warmth. "I'd rather we stayed on Pulse, if we could, but everything leads back to Cocoon. We have to. For Serah. For Dajh. Everything."

Fang felt resolve harden her heart, as well as guilt. "I'm sorry. I wish I hadn't taken Serah away from you."

"You didn't take her away. Stop saying that."

Fang didn't answer, but only because she knew she wouldn't win.

"We'll make it. We always have." Light didn't like the troubled expression on Fang's face, wanted to smooth away the furrows in her brow and the tense line of her jaw. "Fang."

Green eyes looked at her, not quite hiding the uncertainty. "Come with me." Light slipped her hand into Fang's and led her away from the shadowed corner they'd been standing in. Behind them lay the ruined bridge, the sleek ship shining at the end like a deadly omen. Barthandelus had long ago left after delivering his message. After his departure the l'Cie had immediately agreed that they were not prepared to leave Pulse just yet and all had wandered away to spend their last hours here as they wished. Light led her away that bridge to the bedroom they'd shared in Oerba. Fang followed her quietly, obediently, and Light felt her strong hand shaking slightly in her own.

Fang was afraid.

Her lover was afraid and she would soothe those fears away.

Closing the door after them, Light turned to Fang and drew her into her arms, drawing her down to kiss her. Fang obliged, her hands reaching up Light's back to brush her fingers against her hair.

"Claire," she breathed, breaking the kiss to nuzzle Light's hair. "Not now. I don't think I can."

"What better time than now?" Not waiting for an answer, Light began to undo the ties of her uniform, her hands steady and sure.

Fang pulled Light against her, trapping her hands between their bodies. "Because it feels too much like good bye," Fang whispered. "Claire, I couldn't bear it if it is, if you went away."

"I won't. We'll be all right. I'll always be with you." She slid her hands away to tug at Fang's sari, her movements gentle and unhurried. "I love you, you know. I wouldn't let anything happen to you, fal'Cie or no."

Fang managed a laugh, pressed her mouth to Light's hair and simply breathed in her scent. "I love you, too. I want us to make it out of this mess alive. I want a happy ending. I never could stand that maudlin stuff."

Light managed to drag the sari down to Fang's waist, her hands smoothing over Fang's smooth back, and made a quiet purr of satisfaction. "I want the same. But this isn't good bye. We'll make it, I'm sure of it." Light shrugged out of her jacket and tugged Fang down for a kiss.

"I don't think I'll ever feel the same way for anyone as I do for you," Light admitted, her cheeks flushing at the confession. "There'll never be anyone else but you."  


* * *

Lightning was surprised to find Maxwell leaning against a wall, her coat draped over his arm.

"An excellent show," he said, straightening. "I daresay you've won the masses in spite of your disagreeable face."

"Some might contest that," Light retorted, amused. He held out her jacket for her, draping it over her shoulders. "I thought you were still busily working on that paperwork like the industrious little bee you are."

Maxwell sneered faintly. "Somehow, I have prevailed."

Light couldn't resist patting his cheek tauntingly. "You've made me so proud." She watched his eyes rise to look very interested over her shoulder. His brows rose ever so slightly, and a smirk tugged at his lips.

"Maxwell!" Vanille rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I haven't seen you in ages! Where have you been hiding?"

"Ahh, my lady," he said gallantly, gracefully placing Vanille back on solid ground. "I have been driven to my wit's ends, slaving away over the mutilated corpses of former trees-"

"Paperwork is part of your job description," Light said succinctly. Turning slightly, she saw Fang in the corner of her eye, standing stiffly at the rear as the former l'Cie walked off stage. Her green eyes were fixed firmly on Maxwell, their expression unfathomable. Lightning felt a tingling down her spine, similar to the feeling she got when something was about to ambush her.

"Are you thinking about getting a puppy?"

"Oh! How did you know?" Vanille squealed. Hope approached them warily. He knew he was using his girlfriend as a shield and felt not an ounce of shame for it. "Do you have one? Which breed do you think we should get?"

Maxwell's eyes slid away to leer at Hope over Vanille's head. "I recommend a mutt from the pound. Stronger genes from... mixed parentage."

Vanille peppered him with questions, not noticing Hope's flaming cheeks. Lightning only rolled her eyes at her adjutant and turned away. "We do have work today, you know," she commented over her shoulder.

"You won't be having breakfast with us, Sis?" Snow asked, an arm companionably about Dajh's shoulders. "The gang's all together again. We should catch up while we can over breakfast."

Lightning shook her head. "I have some more follow up work and there'll doubtless be calls from reporters. I'll have to take care of that. I'm sorry to miss the gathering, but maybe next time."

Serah, standing beside Snow, asked, "Do you think you'll be late for dinner?"

"I shouldn't be." Light grinned crookedly. "I may even be early. I can probably pick up the girls today. I know you're on shift at the hospital."

"Oh! I thought I'd pick up the girls today, but that does give me time to finish some chores," Vanille said. "Where are you staying, Sazh? If you haven't already gotten a place, Hope and I have another guest bedroom."

Sazh only shook his head. "Light got us some nice digs in the local inn for me and Dajh, so we'll be fine." Sazh turned to Fang, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "We should explore Oerba some time, kid," he chuckled. "It's really changed since you last saw it."

Fang, who'd been pinning Maxwell with a dark stare, started. Sheepishly, she realized she hadn't heard a word anybody had said. "Ah... that sounds great." Turning her eyes back to Maxwell, Fang's felt her hackles rise. She had not liked the easy way he'd held Light's coat out for her, nor the way she'd smiled at him in return. He was tall and handsome in a sophisticated manner, just the kind of man she imagined a woman like Light would be with.

She wanted to tear him apart, limb from limb. And he seemed strangely oblivious to her animosity, still standing intimately close to Light. A deep dark instinct inside her quivered, screaming at her to shove him away, hissing that he had no right to stand so fucking close to her woman.

Suddenly, her right arm was in agony. Where her arm met her shoulder, where her brand once was, it screamed as though on fire. Muscle twisted and cramped horrendously, as though trying to tear itself free from her body. Just managing to keep herself from gasping, Fang slowly gripped her arm with her free hand, her fingers digging viciously into skin as though to staunch the pain. Her face was pale and sweaty, she knew, so she angled herself subtly so to keep her face out of view of the group.

Maker, it'd never been this bad before. Grounding her teeth together, Fang had to force herself to keep from screaming. There was a strange moist sensation where the worst of the pain lay, as though she could feel the blood pouring out of her arm. She caught sight of her right hand, wondered at how it lay limp against her side. Felt her knees turn to jelly when her fingers didn't move as she commanded. _Move, damn it. Move!_

A pale hand covered her tense arm, and she looked up to see blue eyes looking at her. "Fang," Light said, her voice soft, but firm. Commanding. "I wanted to speak with you about something. If you don't mind coming with me for a few minutes?"

Wordlessly, Fang followed Light away, not daring to look back. When Light turned back to close the dressing room door behind her, she noticed under the bright lights the thin sheen of perspiration on Fang's face. She was deathly pale under her dark skin and it frightened her.

"Let me see."

Fang stiffened and shook her head. "I'm fine." She angled herself to put her hurt arm out of sight, as though shielding it.

Light leveled her with an even stare that clearly said what she thought of that. "Let me see it anyway."

Fang didn't move for a long time, but finally dropped her uninjured arm away. "Have at it," she muttered.

Light carefully placed her hand on Fang's arm, gently rubbing at the muscle. It was warm to the touch, just like the rest of Fang, and didn't feel any different. But she knew Fang was in deep pain. As she massaged, the muscles twitched and jumped under her hand, as though it was cramped. Fang was quiet throughout, her eyes on Light's hands.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," she finally said, her voice devoid of emotion.

Light continued to soothe the muscle. "I want you to see a doctor."

"No." Fang's voice was flat and cold.

"You said you would."

Fang scowled. She had, in fact, said she would the first time Light had discovered the mysterious pain she sometimes felt in her arm. It came and went at odd moments and Fang never knew if it was something that was triggered. The pain had begun after she'd been branded and while sometimes it was simply a dull ache like a sore muscle, more an irritant than a hindrance, on occasion the pain was blinding. But she managed to keep the pain to herself and Vanille never knew. In a way, she felt that she deserved it, that it was penance for that day when she was unable to save Vanille from a l'Cie's destiny. When her arm had been torn free because she'd dared to defy a fal'Cie.

But it was always better to have two arms than one.

Light's hands fell away and Fang immediately missed them. "I don't want you in pain," she said softly. "If you don't want Serah to look at it, I can find another doctor. But please, see someone about it. It worries me," she added, and Fang thought Light's aim was flawless. It always was.

"All right," she muttered. "I'll have it looked at. I don't mind Serah looking at it. I'd prefer it, actually."

Lightning smiled. "I'll ask her to look at it later. Thank you for doing this for me. And for the press conference. I know it was hard. You did well."

Fang's cheek warmed slightly and she looked away. "It's fine," she said gruffly. "Just sitting still in front of a camera."

"And not looking murderous," Light chuckled. She stopped, as though debating with herself. Stepping closer, she rose on her toes and brushed her lips against Fang's cheek. "Thank you," she repeated.

Fang's heart thundered in her chest and she wondered how the entire studio couldn't hear her. She felt her face flaming and her palms go slick. She could only nod dumbly as Light took a step back. Light's own cheeks were pink, but she didn't look unhappy.

"I do have some more work to take care of," Light managed to say, clearing her throat. Fang started, stammered something out and made for the door.

Light stopped her from opening the door. "I forgot something," she said. "Perhaps this is a bit premature, but... do you want to spend some time with the twins?" Light smiled slightly, looking shy. "I'd like it if you did."

Fang felt the floor drop away, her knees going to jelly. An immeasurable well of joy rushed to her chest and throat, so sudden that she almost stumbled. She fought to keep the ridiculous grin off her face. Gods, she thought Light would never have allowed her to see them again, not after what she'd said to her. She remembered what Vanille had said about Light's obligation to allow her to see them, but she hadn't wanted to know her children only because their mother felt it was her duty. But if Light wanted her to see them, was willing to let her know them...

Fang took so long in answering that Light started to look dismayed. "I mean, I'm not forcing you to if you don't want to," she hastily added, watching Fang's face carefully. She looked odd, as though she couldn't decide what to look like. "And I do want to ask the twins, but I'm sure Arial will want to while Avery might be-"

"Yes." Fang's answer was sure. Her green eyes were intense and filled with something that made Light's own eyes fill. "Yes. I want to spend time with them. I... I would really... really like it. To know Arial and Avery." _My daughters. Ours. _

Light blinked several times, her gaze seemingly unfocused, then nodded. "I'll ask them and call you. The weekend would be best, I think. And I would be off work. You can spend time together alone with them if you want. I suppose that's something we'll work out later."

Fang felt herself fill with anticipation and excitement, like a child expecting gifts. Which was something she'd never experienced in her life, which made it all the more surreal. "All right. I'll... talk to you later?"

"I'll call you," Light said again. An eyebrow rose. "You do still have your phone, don't you?"

Fang felt herself redden. "Somewhere," she mumbled, and resolved to never go anywhere without it again. She thought she left it on her night stand. Maybe.

With a slight smirk, Light walked out the room. Looking over her shoulder, she said, "Also, he's gay."

Fang blinked. "What?"

"Maxwell," Light remarked. "He's gay as a rainbow. Enjoy breakfast with everybody. We're all glad that you're back. Don't ever think otherwise." With that, Light swept out of the studio with Maxwell in tow, leaving Fang with a ridiculous grin on her face.

It was going to be a good day.

* * *

"So that's Ragnarok."

Light only held her hand out. Maxwell pouted.

"It's my car."

"I'm your superior."

He pouted some more and reluctantly handed the keys over. "I want to make it to work alive," he muttered.

Light flashed a grin that would have chilled a cadet's spine frozen. "We'll make it there on time if I drive, granny."

Maxwell barely managed to buckle himself in and pray when his back slammed against the seat. "Hooool-"

"Any outstanding work?" Light asked casually, zipping through and past other cars.

"-leeee shit," he wheezed, squeezing his eyes shut as the car barely nipped past a truck by a layer of paint. He wanted to frantically pat his front to check for any loose organs, but his hands were very busily clutching the door and armrest. "Are we dead yet?"

Light only smirked. "The Maker must be listening," she told him, "because we're on time."

He dared to crack a lid, saw that they were, miraculously, in one piece and pulling up to a checkpoint. "I don't understand why you can't just adhere to the speed restrictions," he muttered darkly. "You're an officer of the law."

Light ignored him. "Any requests for interviews with Fang or any of the l'Cie will be denied. Complete media stonewall on that or the reporter who tries to get to them will be on the blacklist."

Maxwell, gathering himself, whistled. "Very strict."

"Forward questions to me and the media liaison. No excuses," Light continued, nodding to the guard at the station. He snapped to attention and saluted, opening the gate. "If the general sees fit, a followup interview will be granted to a journalist of my choice with a predefined set of questions." The car moved smoothly through.

"An interview with you?" Maxwell asked, already keying notes in a slim electronic pad.

Light nodded. "With me."

"I don't suppose you've the general's approval on that," Maxwell asked dryly.

"I already forwarded him my plans the previous evening. I have his approval." Light slanted her aide a look. "Since when have you questioned my orders?"

"Since I decided my very excellent ass would be in the same sling as yours if this doesn't go exactly right," he snipped back, snapping his pad shut. "Not that I'm not willing to go down with you. I just didn't think it'd be so very soon." He sighed mournfully. "I thought at least once I got your job..."

"Never," Light grinned back, parking the car. "Perhaps a posthumous promotion?" She offered helpfully.

"You are cold," was his only reply. 

* * *

"Mom was on TV this morning," Arial remarked, not looking up from her cell phone.

"I heard," Avery grunted back through clenched teeth, pulling her chin to the bar. Two more, she thought, and felt her body complain very loudly. She ignored it.

"You're going to be sore if you do anymore," Ripley commented, standing by where Avery dangled. She glanced at the muted newscast that Arial's eyes were fixed on. "Most of the school's talking about that. Ragnarok woke up."

"Fang woke up," Arial corrected, looking up at Ripley. Ripley was only a mere inch taller, but her lankiness gave her the illusion of being even taller. Her eyes were dark blue, her hair a burnished chestnut, tied back in a simple ponytail. She was a natural athlete like Avery, but held no deep loathing for books and studying. More often than not, Ripley's easy going nature made her suitable as a mediator between the twins during a fight. She was a tad closer to Avery because of their mutual interest in sports, but Arial certainly considered Ripley as much her best friend as her sister's. "She's not Ragnarok."

"Ha," Avery grunted, forcing herself through another rep

Arial only rolled her eyes. "I hope your arms fall off."

"They probably will after the next one," Ripley agreed. She glanced over her shoulder around the school gymnasium at her classmates doing various exercises. "Hurry it up, though. Teacher is looking impatient."

"One more," Avery wheezed.

"Stupid meathead," Arial muttered. "It's not like Reyna's here for you to show off to."

Though Avery gave no indication of hearing, Ripley did spot a telltale sign of a blush, but didn't comment. "By the way, what happened to your eye?"

Neither of the girls answered. Rip only shrugged and turned back to Arial. "Have you seen her? Fang?"

"I did. She's nice." _And she's my father,_ she thought. Ripley didn't know about that. In fact, nobody knew about that except the former l'Cie. She was looking at Ripley's profile as the other girl watched Avery and she suddenly felt an intense urge to tell her everything. The words were bubbling in her throat, struggling to come out. Ripley would understand, a voice in her head thought, exactly because she didn't know anything about it. Arial had never been able to speak about Fang to Avery, who'd only turn stony-faced and leave the room. And her mother had always looked so sad that she couldn't bear to see that expression on her face. Aunt Serah hadn't known Fang and the one time she'd asked Uncle Snow, he'd looked so uncomfortable and distressed that she'd simply dropped the subject.

She'd never felt right asking Vanille or Hope, even though Vanille told her stories about Fang when they'd grown up together. The stories had always enthralled and filled her with pride and excitement at having a parent who was even better at escaping adults and could even hunt and live in the wild on her own. She'd beg Vanille for every tidbit about Fang, desperately needing to know her father.

She had wanted to be able to look at Fang when she woke and know who she was.

But the only person who'd ever been able to say anything about her father and mother was Sazh. When she asked, curious even at eight years old, he'd looked sad, too. He had enveloped her in his arms and promised her that Fang would wake up and no matter if Fang hadn't met her yet, Fang would love her and Avery.

_"She'll wake up. I know it." His hands were big on her shoulders as he crouched down to eye level, big and warm and comforting. Just like a father's should be._

"Really?" She asked uncertainly. Her mother had said the same, but as each day passed, Arial couldn't help but wonder if she was the reason why Fang hadn't woken up yet. The thought made her heart pump hard and fast and her body feel cold with fear and dread.

"She will. You heard the stories Vanille's been telling you. Fang's a strong girl. When she... when she saved Cocoon, it took a lot of courage and strength to do that. She just needs her rest now, but she'll come back. You'll see."

"What if she doesn't like me?" Arial whispered, eyes on the ground near the toes of Sazh's boots, finally giving voice to a deep lurking fear that'd she had never been able to say before. "What if she doesn't want to come back because she doesn't like me? What if she hates me?"

"Oh, no, no, baby," Sazh murmured, hugging her head against his shoulder, gently rubbing her back soothingly. "Fang doesn't hate you. She'd never hate you. She loves you and Avy."

"How do you know?" She'd mumbled wetly against the coarse linen of his coat, sniffling to keep the tears down. "Aunt Van said even when Fang was gone for a while, she always came back. Always. Why won't she come back now?"

"She'll come back," Sazh had said, and even though she had felt the uncertainty in those words, she took comfort in them.

Arial turned her eyes back to the holographic screen, her gaze on the lone brunette beside her mother. She'd only ever seen a single picture of Fang and the one on the screen was different. Her face was blank, almost cold, but she recognized the expression.

She imagined it was what both she and her sister looked like when they were being subjected to something unpleasant. Fang didn't look the same as that day Arial found her napping among summer grass, and Arial thought that she looked more suited to the grass than the civilized clothes she wore. Fang was a hunter, she remembered. Or still was.

She snapped her phone shut, the screen winking out. She gripped the electronic until her knuckles turned white, turning her face away from Ripley and Avery. She felt light-headed, almost euphoric, her fingers tingling. Her breath was coming in and out fast, her heart pounding. It took her several moments to realize that what she was feeling was happiness, and anticipation.

Fang had woken up.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for sticking with me, guys! I finally updated. Most of the semester is over at this point, just a few exams and then holidays, so I should be able to post a bit more frequently before the spring semester starts. /wrists

I also realized while rereading this thing (I wrote this months ago and I couldn't remember what I wrote AT ALL D:) that the previous chapters had kind of been pretty depressing. So I threw in a bit of a sexy scene from happier times and I hope you enjoyed that. I can't really remember what I wanted to say, other than that E.G. Szyslak pulled through and proofread this thing, so much love goes out to her.

As always, reviews are always appreciated. Like candy. Unless you're dieting. Sadface.


	10. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**By: Calore**

* * *

"You've been quiet," Ripley remarked to Avery as they walked to their next class.

Avery only shrugged. "Nothing to say," she muttered. Her eyes settled on Arial, who was walking ahead of them chatting with a friend.

"Did something happen?"

'No."

Ripley decided not to comment on the unusually sharp tone and switched tactics. "Will you be at practice today?"

"Of course. Will you?"

Ripley nodded. "I plan to. I may leave early, though. Some trouble with that essay assignment for history."

"That's not due for another few days," Avery protested, a scowl forming. "Don't turn into Arial."

Ripley could only grin in response to that. "Don't be so loud. She might whack you again." Her grin widened when Avery glanced at Arial quickly to see if her sister had heard. A small sigh of relief escaped Avery when her sister continued to chatter amiably, oblivious to her comment. "I actually think classes are important."

Avery scowled. "Just don't be late," she muttered waspishly.

"I won't," Rip said. The pair walked in silence, Rip's eyes absentmindedly on Arial's back and Avery's mind on Fang.

_Fang_. Her hand flexed hard on her backpack strap, crushing it in her grip. An odd tightness crept up her throat and her heart began to pound hard and deep. Her jaw clenched, a muscle twitching hard.

_She shouldn't have come back, _Avery thought furiously. _Should have just stayed asleep where she belonged._ Fang had abandoned them, left them alone for _years_ and now she was back, expecting a fucking happy family reunion. Her other hand fisted, nails driving hard into palm. Fang had no right, _none, _to leave as she had and then expect anything from them. They were better as they were. They didn't need Fang to, to...

_Be a part of the family, a_ small traitorous voice said. _To be a father._

Avery ruthlessly crushed that voice, her throat constricting again. Maybe when she was still naive, she'd desperately wanted a father. Especially one who was greater than anybody's father, one who was exactly the great warrior her mother and Aunt Vanille had said she was, who could hunt oretoise down like a wolf to deer. Even though she'd been enthralled as her own twin by stories of Fang's exploits, deep down she hadn't cared what Fang had done. She'd only wanted for Fang to be _there. _

So that their family could be complete.

But her heart had hardened and she'd learned that not having a father was not as shameful as some had made it out to be. She'd learned how a fist to the face could silence a bully's taunting and shield her sister. She'd learned very well to make her weakness - her deep yearning for a father - to be something that defined her. She'd accepted that Fang would never return, something her twin had refused to do, and became Arial's protector.

And no bully dared utter a word about the Farrons' lack of a second parent. Not to Avery Farron.

* * *

Fang sat in the back seat of Serah and Snow's car and fiddled with the hem of her shirt, half-distracted. She wondered what thirteen year old girls liked to do on weekends. Despite the excitement that accompanied the thought of spending time with Avery and Arial, she felt an intense anxiety. Would they like her? Could she actually keep a pair of young girls who'd never met her before entertained? She frowned, scrounging through her memories with Vanille when they were younger, before they became l'Cie. She could recall certain carefree moments, like when she'd taught Vanille how to ride a wyvern. At the orphanage, every child had begged Fang to take them riding, but the matron, who was terrified of heights, had found out and strictly forbidden it.

Would they like that? Fang mentally blanched. What if Light didn't want her showing them that? Light wasn't afraid of heights, not when she was leaping off ledges and cliffs with the confidence of a hawk as Fang remembered, but children were always a different matter.

Weren't they?

Fang heard a faint tearing noise and looked down. She was wringing the hem of her shirt to shreds. Forcing herself to draw in a deep breath and not quiver with the sudden nerves, Fang looked out the window. "Where are we going?"

"Lebreau should be serving breakfast right now," Serah said from the passenger seat. "You've met her before, haven't you?"

"She definitely has," Snow answered for her, taking his eyes off the road briefly to grin back at Fang. "When we were back on Cocoon and Lebreau and the gang busted through that door. Remember, Fang?"

Fang only had the vaguest recollection of a woman only slightly taller than Serah with dark hair and an entirely too revealing outfit. "I think so." Fang suddenly recalled the enormous amount of alcohol that woman had served her. "I think I met her earlier, though. Before the whole mess."

"Huh, I didn't know that. Well, that's great either way that you two know each other. Anyway, she makes the best pancakes in town," Snow continued. "And we haven't told her that you're back, though she might have caught it on the news already. Her place is nice, loads bigger than before, too. You'll like it, I promise."

"There might be a small crowd, but Lebreau can get us a more private table," said Serah. They rode in silence briefly until Snow pulled into a parking lot. As they exited the car, Hope and Vanille's car parked next to theirs.

"Wow, it's gotten bigger," Dajh commented as he got out, looking at the large awning of the cafe front. "Doesn't it look bigger, Dad?"

"Sure does, son," Sazh replied. "Nice to see business is booming."

They entered the restaurant, which was only a little crowded. "Morning rush should be ending right about now," Snow remarked. He'd worked many shifts here when Lebreau moved the cafe to Pulse and even more when the cafe grew. Catching the hostess's eye, he waved off a hand. "Don't worry about it, Sandy, we'll grab ourselves a table." The hostess, a young woman who had to be about college age, grinned back and returned to clearing off tables.

He steered them to a large table in a quiet corner, taking a few menus along the way. Fang seated herself between Sazh and Vanille, taking a menu from Snow. Blinked at the odd characters printed on the menu.

Vanille, spotting her confusion, said, "Oh! I'm so sorry, I forgot that you can't read Cocoon words. I'll have to show you later, it's actually not that different from Gran Pulse. Here, this one is an omelet..." As Vanille explained each dish, Fang's eyes started to glaze over. She hadn't heard of those dishes in years. She remembered Vanille making them at the orphanage, but the ensuing time after that...

The Arks had not had restaurants.

And the only time she'd been in a restaurant with Vanille, both of them had been equally clueless about reading the foreign characters. And even so, she'd ended up dragging out two punks, beaten them and stolen their money. But Fang considered that a good memory.

"Do you know what you want, Fang?" asked Vanille.

Fang blinked and opened her mouth to say that she'd just have whatever Vanille was having, except with more salt, when she heard the explosion and crash. Her spine stiffened and instinct screamed to protect Vanille. Every muscle in her body tensed and she lunged, tackling Vanille hard to the ground. "Stay down," she said to Vanille's open-mouthed expression of surprise, and shot up to her feet in a battle stance, hand groping at her back for her lance.

It wasn't there. She froze in shock for an instant, but shook it off. She could fight with her bare hands just as well, or take a weapon from an enemy...

She blinked again. She expected a battlefield or an arena, but all she saw was an unfamiliar restaurant, still quietly buzzing with conversation despite the pounding in her ears. She saw that she was surrounded by people and those close enough were staring at her. Her breath coming fast and hard, Fang swiveled her head to see two waitresses busy cleaning up several broken shards of white ceramic from the floor. She remained frozen, her mind scrambling in confusion. She'd heard an explosion. She'd _heard_ it.

_Do you really belong here? You're a killer, bred for battles and massacres, not breakfast with playmates. _

She jumped when she felt Sazh's hand warm on her shoulder. "It was just some dishes breaking, kid," he murmured soothingly, eyes full of sympathy and understanding. "It's all right. Vanille's safe, look."

Fang forced herself to look. Hope was helping her up, but she didn't see any blood on her. No torn or scorched clothes. Not a young girl cowering in fear, but a woman being lifted up by someone else.

_You rabid dog. _Fang flinched visibly.

"Just breathe," said Sazh.

She obeyed, until the roaring in her head stopped, until her fists loosened. Feeling more in control, she felt horrible embarrassment seep in. Her cheeks burned and she turned her face away. She had overreacted to breaking dishes. Just dishes. And flung Vanille to the ground unceremoniously. She was aware of the pitying looks on her. Her cheeks burned. Her legs tensed, her throat filling with things to say so she could leave and not have to bear their crushing concern.

"Welcome home, hero," said a voice behind her. Fang turned her head.

A woman with dashing long dark bangs and ponytail stood behind her, a sultry smirk on her lips. She wore a pair of slacks and an indecently cut blouse that left too little to the imagination. Her face was angular and her golden eyes sly, like a fox's.

"Lebreau!" Snow greeted cheerfully. "I'm surprised, you're actually up before noon today. Didn't you work the late shift last night?"

Lebreau straightened, letting her hand rest on a cocked hip. She sighed gustily. "I did, but a little birdie woke me up this morning to watching some interesting news on TV." Her eyes slid down to Fang. "Something about a hero coming back after a very long journey."

"You've met Fang before right?" asked Snow.

"Far too briefly, if memory serves." Giving Fang a friendly look that exuded easy charm, Lebreau turned to survey the group and smiled sleepily. "Have you all ordered breakfast? If so, I might not be able to join you. I only rolled into bed a few hours ago."

"Stay," Serah pleaded. "I haven't seen you lately, I've been so busy with the girls and at the hospital. And you can get to know Fang."

"At least for a few minutes," Vanille added earnestly, her eyes taking on that puppy look Fang never could resist. Even Dajh was nodding and getting up to fetch a chair.

Lebreau finally acquiesced and her chair somehow migrated to sit between Fang and Vanille with the latter's squeal of delight about Fang making new friends. Fang didn't want to make more friends. She was having enough troubles on her own.

The bartender turned to Fang immediately once she settled down, her smile warm. "I'm Lebreau."

"Fang."

"We've met before." Lebreau tapped her chin a few times, her expression thoughtful. "Yes, thirteen years ago. You came in alone, but only because you were looking for Vanille. I remember your drink."

Fang looked at her curiously. "You do? After thirteen years?"

"I have a good memory. Wouldn't be much of a bartender if I didn't. It was whiskey. You looked like you needed it."

Fang couldn't remember herself what she'd drank. She'd almost never had spirits before and Lebreau was right about why she was at the bar that night: she had been looking for Vanille, feeling remorseful for pushing her inside that elevator.

Lebreau leaned in a little, her eyes kind. "You look like you might need it now, actually."

"I don't think I like spirits," Fang muttered. She remembered the liquid burning on the way down and making her eyes water. No, she had not liked it, especially the light-headed feeling it gave her afterwards.

"No, I didn't think you would. The whiskey was just to show you."

Fang looked up at that, her brow creasing. "You were trying to warn me _away_ from liquor?"

Lebreau grinned cheekily. "I'm a bartender. It may be part of my trade, but I've seen what it does to people. I'm not much of a drinker myself. And neither are you." Her eyes flicked over Fang, a slightly calculating look in them. "Light said you're a hunter. A good one."

Fang's back straightened, her chest puffing out slightly. "I am," she said with the faintest hint of pride. And she was more than just a little eager to have a purpose, something to expend all this excess energy she seemed to be brimming with.

"Do you think you'd be interested in a job?"

Vanille seemed to have heard that and turned to them. "What kind of job? It better not be something dangerous, Lebreau. Fang just got back and we don't even know if she's all right yet."

"Well, we have a doctor here, don't we? What do you think, Doctor Farron?" Lebreau asked Serah. Fang had to think for a moment when she heard Serah's title. She'd forgotten that the slight girl was now a capable caretaker.

"From what I saw, Fang looked fine physically. But that was only a brief look. Did you have anything preexisting, Fang? Anything that might cause you trouble?"

Fang opened her mouth to say no, that she was perfectly fine, when she remembered the promise she'd made to Light earlier in the dressing room. She unconsciously closed her hand over the wrist of her injured arm, recalling the intense phantom pain. She could feel the weight of everybody's eyes on her, especially Vanille, who would ask if she said anything.

Serah was all too familiar with the hesitant expression her patients had when there was something they wanted to keep loved ones from hearing. "Well, it's best that I take you into an actual exam room actually," she smoothly interjected, covering over Fang's silence. "I can give you an official clean bill of health with that."

Fang jumped at the lifeline and clung. "Yeah, I think that'd work best. But I'm definitely healthy," she hastily added. "I'm good for any job you have in mind."

"Well, once you have your mother's approval," Lebreau said with a pointed look at Vanille. "I'm sure I can find something useful for you. Spring always brings work here on Pulse. Like rampaging oretoise."

"You better not be having her herd them," Vanille said with alarm. "That's the GC's job!"

Lebreau propped her chin on her hand, elbow resting on the table. "Not all of them are trained for it, you know," she said reasonably. "Numbers have been growing the past few seasons. We're going to have to seriously think about culling them if we're not to be overrun."

Hope looked up with a wince. "Pleasant, that. It's been certainly talked about with the higher ups, but it'd be difficult finding a way to tranq them and do that. Killing a few might be best, you know, put out a few contracts, but the body removal would be a mess."

"You'd have to remove the carcass," Fang said. "Leaving them there just attracts scavengers." Fang turned back to her menu, suddenly feeling hungry. "Culling them would be much easier," she said absentmindedly. "Paddra's right by oretoise territory. They used to cull the bulls to keep them from driving caravans off roads. There's a natural herb mixture that puts them right to sleep."

She looked up, not noticing the table go quiet. "I think I want pancakes. They look good."

Hope was grinning while Lebreau and Sazh both had thoughtful expressions on their faces.

"Have you had experience controlling the herd, Fang?" Hope asked.

"Some. Too many and they can drive off game. Are sausages salty?" Fang pointed at the picture on the menu. "If they are, I want them with my pancakes."

"They're salty, Fang," Vanille answered with a smile. "You never said anything about herding the oretoise. I thought you just liked hunting them."

"Not much of a challenge since they're so slow."

"You and Light were always after them, though."

Fang's cheeked pinked. That was because they had not always been chasing oretoise when they said there were. Clearing her throat, she said, "Light liked to upgrade our weapons, remember?"

Vanille pursed her lips. "Hm, you're right, she did. Well, still! That sounds like something you'd like."

Fang opened her mouth, then closed it. "Well, I don't really know what kind of job it'd be," she said, feeling uncertain. Gran Pulse was different now. Even if it meant doing something familiar with beasts, she felt uneasy

"You don't have to make a decision now," Lebreau said, seeing Fang's hesitation. "I can tell you, though, that the pay is good. Anyone with enough balls to go chasing after a herd of giant turtles is going to get a lot of gil for it, especially if you can do it well. This isn't your average nine to five job, though I have a feeling you wouldn't want that kind of job anyway," Lebreau added with a smile. "I know it's probably been a big day for you, so just think about it. I'll give you the contract papers to look over and you can let me know when you're ready."

Fang smiled gratefully at her. "Thanks. I, I really appreciate it."

And for the first time in a long time, Fang didn't feel quite so lonely.

* * *

By afternoon, Lightning had wrangled with enough reporters and forwarded her choices for possible interviews to General Ramza. She'd even managed to finish up leftover paperwork that Maxwell had left on her desk before finishing up last minute meetings. She went off duty just in time to avoid the late afternoon traffic and saw the tail before she was two blocks away from headquarters.

"Well, that's annoying." She glanced at the time, tapped her fingers against the wheel. She didn't have the time to play with Sanctum lackeys, but nor did she want them following her to her own children. Her personnel file would show information on the twins and a deeper dig would pull up more on their school. They probably knew what the school schedule was, knew what the girls looked like, their names, ages and description.

But it was the principle of the thing.

With a thin smile, Light stomped on the gas just as the light went green. She swerved past a vehicle, zipping in and out of traffic close enough that Maxwell would have been whimpering in the passenger seat if he was there. Reminded of that, she called her adjutant from the car's phone.

"Maxwell. You're supposed to be off duty and letting me enjoy my time off, Colonel," Maxwell said prissily.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was I interrupting something important?"

"Maybe." She thought she heard an indignant sniff and grinned.

"Imagine that, my adjutant has something important that his superior isn't aware of. Why don't you enlighten me?"

"No need," Maxwell sniffed again. "It's all gone. I-" A very loud squeal of tires cut him off. Light glanced in her mirror and lifted a brow. Not one, but three tails. Well, then.

"I hope you're not doing your apparently important business in my office."

"But that's the very best place. And sir, I heard something that sounded alarmingly like tire squeals. I hope you're not racing the seventh squad's captain on your way to pick up your own children."

"No. I have three tails. Trying to lose them."

"Oh? Sanctum tails?" There was a rustle and the sound of tapping keys. "Do you have the plates?"

"I have two. Haven't caught the third yet." She read them off. "Oh, I see the third. They're trying very hard to keep up."

"Well, you're not going anywhere important on the way, are you? Somewhere you haven't told even your beloved, faithful assistant?"

"Stop kissing my ass and give me the plate records."

"My favorite activity. Yes, government plates. Registered to the Highguard for Councilman Hyral. Currently, Hyral isn't in town, he should be visiting New Bodhum. His entire Highguard should be with him, maybe a select few here for his family." More tapping. "I can find who's here in town, but it's going to take some time. It's going to raise some flags, too, searching Highguard files."

"I don't care. They're fucking tailing me while I'm off duty. Get me the files, forward them to my personal computer, encrypted. I'm going to lose these clowns and go home."

"Try not to get yourself killed, sir." Light disconnected the line, did a quick scan of her surroundings and peeled sharply around a corner. She turned again down a small, narrow street, pulling in front of a parked truck, obscuring vision from the main street. _One down, _she thought, watching a dark car speed down the road. Shifting into gear, she continued eluding the tails until she was satisfied they were going around in circles in vain and headed to the school.

"Hi, Mom," the girls said as they climbed into the car. Avery was still in track shorts and her hair damp from a shower.

"Where's Cally?"

"She's getting something from her locker," Avery said with an eye roll.

"Ah, the eye roll," Light said, watching Avery through the mirror. "You're both turning into teenagers on me. I'll be seeing more of that eye roll."

Arial looked up. "Only from doofus here." She blinked at Light. "Did something happen at work?"

"Why do you say that?"

"You look kind of... happy."

Light grinned. Fielding questions from reporters was not on her list of favorite things, but capping the day off with confusing Sanctum tails probably put her in a better mood than usual. "Something like that."

"Like with Fang?" Arial's gaze became earnest. "I saw you on TV with Fang and everybody."

The passenger door opened and Cally threw herself in before Light could answer. "Sorry, Aunt Light," Cally puffed. "I forgot to get my homework."

"Seatbelts," Light said and merged into traffic.

"Mom!" Arial whined plaintively.

"What?"

"I asked if anything happened with Fang."

"Well, she was on TV," Light said mildly. "Did it look like anything happened?"

"No," Arial admitted. "But did you _talk _to her?"

"What about?"

"I don't know, stuff. Can she visit?"

"Shut up," Avery growled. Arial ignored her.

"Can she, Mom?"

"Let's talk about this at home," Light said gently. "How was school today?"

"A lot of people was talking about Ragnarok," Cally said with wide eyes. "Ari showed me you and her and Mom on TV and she didn't look like Ragnarok at all."

Light had to laugh. "She's not Ragnarok anymore, Cal. She's Fang."

"Can I meet Fang?"

"We'll talk about it at home," Light repeated.

Avery remained silent and stared sullenly out the window.

* * *

At home, Arial immediately asked about Fang again, but Light sent them off to do homework with the promise of a talk after dinner. With Serah still at the hospital and Snow somewhere else, Light riffled through a cookbook for dinner recipes. The Farron cookbook was well worn and loved, heavily annotated with notes from both Serah and their mother. There were even sticky notes for the recipes that were simple enough for Light to manage that Serah had left, along with noted improvisations on the ingredients and directions. Flipping to one page with a note attached, Light glanced at the message.

_"Don't walk away from the oven to do work! STAY PUT AND SERIOUSLY WATCH FOR 10 MINS, SIS!"_

Light snorted. "Could be finishing up some reports instead of eyeballing the oven." There were more messages.

_"Don't burn the chicken. Move it around the pan a lot, try not to make a mess."_

"I don't leave a mess."

_"And I always have to clean up after you, BE NEAT."_

"That has nothing to do with the recipe, Serah," Light sighed, reading over every nagging scribbled message. To any normal person reading the messages, they bordered on condescending and vaguely insulting, but Serah Farron had long learned that she preferred an intact and mostly unharmed kitchen over offending her soldier sister.

Light was in the midst of preparing a simple dish when the house phone rang. Cradling the phone between her shoulder and jaw, Light answered. "Hello?"

"Oh, good, you're home already," Serah said.

"Mm, I've been home a few minutes already. Still at the hospital?"

"Just a little while longer, I have a few more patients to check up on. Are you making dinner?"

"In the middle of it, yes. Girls are off doing homework."

"Don't leave the kitchen unattended," Serah said automatically, a smile tugging at her lips when she heard her sister grunt something unintelligible and probably rude. "Snow should be getting home soon, too, so he can finish up making dinner."

"I can make all of it without your husband butting in, you know."

"Yes, but there's usually a few casualties along the way," Serah replied, tongue firmly in cheek. "Anyway, I was just calling to check up on you guys. I have something I want to talk to you about, but best not on the phone. After dinner, probably."

"Oh? Did a reporter try to talk to you?"

"Surprisingly, no, I haven't seen any. It's about Fang."

Light immediately stopped what she was doing and focused her full attention on her sister. "Tell me."

"It's not an emergency and, like I said, I'd rather not talk about it over the phone. Just something I thought I should bring up."

Light closed her eyes and tried to keep the sudden flood of worry and impatience at bay. "All right. After dinner, then." The phone clicked off and Light placed it back on its cradle. Turning back to the pile of vegetables, Light called on her familiar soldier training, tuning out all thoughts but the task at hand. A few minutes later, she heard a car door closing and the front door opening, the sound of heavy footsteps telling her it was her brother-in-law arriving.

"Hey, Sis," Snow greeted, dropping a large duffel bag to the floor and nudging it safely away under an overhanging counter top. "What's cooking?"

Light blinked and look down at the neat piles of sliced vegetables. "I'm not really sure," she said honestly. "I think it's a casserole. I just picked a recipe from the book."

Grinning, Snow gently nudged her aside. "I know the recipe. Why don't you clean up and I'll take care of the rest. Serah should be home soon."

Light tried to leave without looking too grateful, but the speed in which she fled probably made that effort pointless. As strode out, she heard footsteps and saw her niece headed for the kitchen, but stopped short when she spotted her aunt. Light smiled, her hand going to ruffle the top of her blonde head. "Finished your homework already?"

Cally shook her head. "Not yet, Aunt Light. I wanted to see Dad."

"He's in the kitchen, kiddo," Light said. She headed for her study and turned on her laptop. She glanced over the files Maxwell had sent. Her lips tightened. Maxwell had left a message that he'd verified Councilman Hyral's alibi with a small contingent of guards. The tails had used cars registered to Hyral, the remaining guards temporarily reassigned to a different councilman. She didn't have to look to know who that was.

Light wondered what excuses Delita would have to make for that.

But something was off. The guards had been too blatant, not in the least subtle. Most civilians wouldn't have noticed, but Light was a trained observer and had seen them coming, not quite believing that they'd be so brazen. Leaning her head back against her chair, she closed her eyes and let her mind roam.

Delita wanted her to know he was watching. There'd been no communication from General Ramza, nothing sent to Maxwell or any of her other subordinates. No orders, no reassignments. Nothing but silence when she'd expected exactly the opposite. She had prepared herself to be brought forth to the High Council almost immediately after the press conference. If not that same day, then another day, but at least today something would have been scheduled. Instead, she'd twiddled her thumbs and worked as though there wasn't an axe somewhere above her head.

It was unsettling. What did it mean? She expected to be watched. She'd been watched ever since she became a l'Cie and even more when Cocoon dropped out of the sky and she'd always made sure her family was kept out of those prying eyes. She wouldn't let anything like that touch her daughters, Serah, everyone. They were precious to her, people who needed to be protected and she did so fiercely with no exceptions. But there was Fang now.

Light opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Was Fang family to her? She hadn't thought of it back then when they were still l'Cie and foolishly in love, but she'd have done anything to protect Fang. Fang, her friend and her comrade. And, she forced herself to admit, a former lover. Thirteen years between them now.

Fang, who was damaged, who had lost too much, who didn't know how to live. Fang, who was a l'Cie for too long and who had been forced to make terrible sacrifices. What was Fang now to her?

Light sighed and rested the back of her hand over her eyes. Her thoughts had roamed too far from their original point. Whatever Fang was to her, Light would keep the cameras and reporters and delusional politicians as best she could. Fang deserved to make her own life here and that life now included a place with the girls. Which she would need to speak to about the upcoming weekend outing.

She was feeling very nervous about it. She didn't know how they would take the news, though she could imagine it very well. Arial would probably be overjoyed. Avery would, at best, throw an impressive sulk and, at worst, outright refuse. But if Arial wanted to go and wanted Avery to go, then she would persuade her reluctant sister. She knew how much Arial wanted to know Fang, but her sister was equally, if not more, important to her. Arial would not leave Avery out of a family outing. _Avery would like Fang_, she thought. _She just needed to give her a chance._ Avery and Fang were so alike. It was obvious, even when Avery had been small, who she had taken after. Always wild and exuberant, brimming with such energy that it'd even exhausted Light. She could see how Fang was, just by looking at her older child.

_"Do you think Fang will come back?" Avery peered up at her mother from her spot on the floor, toys scattered around her. _

_Light smiled gently, her face never betraying the doubt she had only just started to feel. "Of course, baby."_

_Her green eyes serious, Avery turned back to the open book on her lap. They were learning about the War of Transgression, but only a little. She knew there were things being left out because nobody mentioned how Cocoon was made from Pulse land literally or even about Pulsians or Yuns or Dias. Nothing but stories about the battles Cocoon won until Ragnarok appeared. She was seven, just a month shy of her birthday and desperately hungry for knowledge about her heritage, for anything about her father. None of the teachers ever talked about how Ragnarok saved Cocoon and she'd once heard one teacher say it was Ragnarok's fault that they were stuck on Pulse now. Stuck in hell. _

_When she told her mommy about that, her mommy had gotten a funny look on her face and hugged her. Avery wasn't sure if her mommy had done anything because when she went to school the next day, she hadn't seen that teacher again. She was a little afraid to ask her what happened._

_It had been almost a year since Vanille had woken. The flagging hope Light had carried was renewed to a veritable inferno when Vanille appeared at the foot of the Spire. When first told of the news, Light had sat frozen in her office and the moment the messenger left, she had calmly locked her door, closed the window shutters and sobbed._

_The twins hadn't understood then that Fang wasn't with Vanille. They'd been excited, exuberant even, thinking that Fang must be with Vanille. Hadn't all the former l'Cie said how dedicated Fang was to Vanille? Vanille had looked almost crushed with guilt the moment she saw the twins. She had known instantly who they were. Anyone who'd seen their eyes would have known. Vanille, who had a good cry herself after Light took the twins away from the Corps hospital, had turned to Hope afterwards and said, "I wouldn't have come back. I wouldn't have let Fang do that, sacrifice herself for me, if I'd known."_

_Even if Light had heard Vanille's words, they would not have brought her any consolation. She hoped, she prayed, she agonized, for weeks and then months until the weight of it began to feel too heavy. She didn't let her doubt show, but her girls noticed. On a particularly bad night when Light couldn't bear the thought of going to bed and finding Fang waiting for her in taunting dreams, Arial had managed to find her way against her mother's side and curled next to her comfortingly. Light had fallen into dreamless sleep as she stroked Arial's soft hair gently, lulled by the surge of maternal instinct._

_But while Arial sought to soothe her, Avery seemed to bottle everything up inside. She no longer asked Vanille for stories of Fang and seemed to resent mentions of her, going disturbingly quiet._

_"What if she doesn't?"_

_It hurt to think about it, especially coming from her own daughter. Her oldest, so strong, but so fragile._

_"Then we'll still be a family. We'll always be a family, sweetheart."_

_"If we're a family anyway, why are you waiting for her?"_

_Light had no answer for that, only able to look at Avery in mute shock._

_Avery pushed forward even though her heart was pounding, even though it hurt the way her mother was looking at her, even though she had been waiting, waiting, waiting so hopefully, for that stranger to come home._

_"We don't need Fang," Avery insisted, her hands going strangely damp and clammy. "You have me and Ari. And Aunt Serah and Uncle Snow and Cally. We don't need anyone else. We're a family and it's supposed to be good enough. You said so."_

_"Baby, I-"_

_Avery shook her head violently, ashamed at feeling tears welling up, but forcing them down. She would not cry. She was the oldest one and she was supposed to take care of her family. But no matter how young she was, no matter how hard she bit the inside of her cheek, she couldn't quite keep one from slipping out. "We don't need to wait for, for F-Fang. It's, it's okay if she doesn't come back, if she never comes back, because we'll still be together. It's better if she doesn't come back."_

Light opened her eyes. How could she have not seen that her own daughter was hurting? To have been so blinded by her own desperate hope to see Fang again that she didn't see the pain huddled deep inside that small, frail body?

_"So stop waiting for her. It-it makes you and Ari and everybody else sad and we don't need her. We don't!"_

Light knew it was the truth. Though it hurt, hurt so much that it was sometimes unbearable, they'd persevered. They'd moved on without Fang. Had it been her fault, though, that she'd told them so much about their father? Raised expectations too high and set them to be crushed spectacularly as it had that day when Avery couldn't bear it any longer?

Was she so selfish to tell them about an illusion that could never come true?

_No. Fang was here now. Fang wasn't an illusion. She was real: blood, flesh, and warmth. _

But Light couldn't stop the next inevitable thought.

Was the ideal of a family still an illusion?

* * *

Author's note: I know. So overdue. I've had this molding half-finished somewhere and just... didn't think to update. lol? I'm very sorry! I've also been busy with work and school, so I'm afraid updating has been rather difficult. However, I am definitely still dedicated to getting this thing finished! I'm also very studiously ignoring XIII-2 and will certainly not be playing that pile of crap.

In the mean time, though, I'll just be in this corner, weeping over Mass Effect and Shepard. But I still love Light and Fang. Really. If I could, I'd hug them to my bosom and force them to make up instead of writing this stupidly long fanfiction.

And, of course, E.G. Szyslak gets credit for tolerating my infrequent updating and bad grammar.

ILU GUYS :D


	11. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

**By: Calore**

* * *

Serah arrived home to find her husband putting a casserole into the oven and watching a pot full of boiling potatoes. Tilting her head up for a kiss, Serah inhaled deeply.

"That seems good. I'm a bit beat from work, so I'm just going to leave dinner up to you, okay?"

Snow smiled and nuzzled his wife. "That's fine. Sis did most of the work."

Serah pulled back, her eyes widening. "Did you check-?"

Snow laughed this time. "She didn't get any actual cooking in, just did most of the preparing. It's going to be fine, babe, we won't get sent to the hospital again."

Serah sighed, relieved. "Well, I don't mean to sound completely mean. She tries. She follows most of my notes. It's just, I don't get how she can-"

"Melt pots and set fire to overhead ranges?"

Serah nodded grimly. "Exactly."

Snow only smiled, stirring the potatoes. "I heard it's a talent to be either extremely good or extremely bad at something."

"Don't let her hear you say that," Serah warned, sitting down by the counter and dropping her bag to the floor by Snow's. "She only lets me get away with things like that."

Snow lifted his broad shoulders in agreement. "Dinner'll be ready soon. You have some time to shower if you want. Cally got an A on a history test," he said proudly. "Our girl's smart as a whip, isn't she?"

Serah smiled fondly, already planning on going up to check on her only child. "She had some trouble in history, so I'm glad Arial could help her with it. But she's doing well in her other classes."

"She's doing great on the track team, too," Snow added. "There's a track meet coming up in two weeks. Do you think you can make it?"

Serah made a sound of assent and started flipping through mail. "I probably can. Saturday, right?"

"Yep. Avery'll be competing, too, so I'm pretty sure Light'll be there."

"I doubt the hospital will need me, but I'll make sure to put in a few extra hours." Serah looked up from her perusal. "Where is my sister anyway?"

"Last I saw she was heading into her study."

Serah rose. "Okay, I'm going to talk to her for a bit. I'll be back."

Snow had an idea of what she needed to talk to her sister about and waved her off. "I'll get the girls down when dinner's ready."

Serah left her husband and knocked on the door to the study before entering. Her sister was seated behind her desk, a laptop closed before her. Light offered her a smile. "Welcome home. I'm sorry I didn't hear you come in earlier."

"It's all right." Serah gestured at the desk. "Are you busy?"

"No, I just finished up. Come in." Light smiled wryly. "This _is_ your house, you know."

Serah sat down on the same chair Fang had, though only Light knew that. "You know you're always welcome here. I had something I wanted to talk to you about." Serah looked serious. "About Fang."

"Oh? Did anything happen after I left?"

"Something like that. We had breakfast at Lebreau's. There was a small accident, a waitress dropped some dishes." Serah hesitated, searching for the right words. "Fang may have... overreacted."

Light sat forward, her brow knitted. "Tell me what happened."

"She tackled Vanille to the floor. Vanille was sitting right next to her, you know, and I suppose... Well. I know Fang had a rough childhood. I think she might have thought Vanille was in danger." Serah shook her head. "No, I don't think she thought. It was more like she felt it. She did it so fast, like it was instinct."

"How is she?"

"I didn't check on her today, if that's what you mean. She looked a little pale, shaky. Embarrassed that she did that. I didn't think it'd be a good idea to offer at the time."

Light nodded. "Thank you for telling me." She tapped the desk with her fingers, looking slightly troubled. "I was actually going to ask you to look at Fang, if that was all right."

"I'd be happy to take care of her. Is there something in particular that I should be looking for?"

"This is a little private. I know you won't say anything to anybody," Light added quickly, forestalling any protests about doctor-patient confidentiality. "But it's difficult, even for me, to talk to Fang about this... particular subject. Vanille knows, though, and she might be able to give you more insight."

Serah frowned. "This all sounds very mysterious. What's going on?"

Light took a deep breath, looking as though she truly did not want to be telling the tale. "It's a bit of a long story, but when Fang got branded, her right arm - it was dismembered." Serah uttered a small gasp, but Light kept speaking, now looking slightly ill.

"I don't know what exactly happened, but she fought the branding and the fal'Cie, Anima, cut off her arm. It still makes me sick thinking about it. She was only eighteen, just like when you were..." Light trailed off, her expression distinctly unhappy. She shook herself slightly and pressed on. "She could have bled to death, so Vanille reattached her arm and healed her. It would appear her arm was - is - still functional. But sometimes she gets these painful, incredibly painful, spasms. She's told me that when it's bad enough, the pain feels the same as when she was branded."

"Dear Maker," Serah whispered, looking horrified.

Lightning slumped back against her chair, her eyes suddenly hard. "Fucking fal'Cie," she muttered, her mouth set in a tight line. "No one knows about the pain but us, Serah. Fang doesn't want Vanille to know about the pain. She doesn't want Vanille to think that she didn't heal her properly, so she keeps it from her."

"I won't tell her," Serah promised. "But... Maker. That's awful. I can't imagine..."

Light shook her head. "I don't think anyone really can. Fang says sometimes the pain isn't bad, but there are times when it's unbearable. I had tried to heal her myself, but it did nothing. I don't know if maybe an actual doctor will find anything, but I'm telling you because I don't think Fang would be able to. It's very private for her."

"All right. I'll do what I can, though I might need to refer her to a specialist if I can't find anything." Serah sighed heavily, suddenly feeling weary. "All this stuff with fal'Cie and magic and crystals... I'm kind of out of my depth here and I'm sorry. I don't know what I can do, if I can do anything, but I'll try my best."

"No, I understand. I trust that you'll do your best by Fang." Lightning smiled, though she still looked worried. "There may not be anything physically wrong with Fang. I don't really know, but I'd like to at least make absolute sure of that."

"I'll see what I can do. But you're right, at first glance, Fang seems to be healthy. Maybe stressed from the past few days, but I haven't noticed anything alarming."

"It could be her mind," Light murmured, her tone so soft that Serah had to strain to hear her. "Her defending Vanille at the diner, her arm. I've seen some GC soldiers do things similar, the ones that were cleaning up the ruins in Eden or come back from long expeditions. Post traumatic stress disorder. She's lived in a war almost all her life."

Serah watched her sister gaze off thoughtfully, her elegant brow still frowning. "There are doctors for that, you know. Therapists, psychologists."

"I know. Fang wouldn't allow that."

Serah didn't know Fang well, but even she got the impression that Fang wasn't the type to talk about her feelings that way. "I can bring it up with her if you want."

Lightning shook her head. "No, let's leave that alone for now. I'll talk to her about it this weekend maybe."

"Oh? You two have something going on this weekend?"

At that, Light realized her slip and froze. Blinked. "Ah, well..." Fumbled about her brain for something appropriate to say.

Serah laughed. Her ever so composed sister looked as though she'd just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "You don't have to tell me. I'd be more than happy to make assumptions all on my own."

Lightning colored. "Serah! It's not like that."

"Of course," Serah said agreeably.

Shooting her a dirty look, Light crossed her arms and managed to look both irritated and embarrassed. "I asked her if she wanted to spend some time with the twins this weekend. That's it."

"Oh," was all Serah said. Light glanced at her, saw the soft look in her sister's eyes.

"What?"

"That's lovely," she said, smiling hugely. "The twins must be thrilled."

"I'm not sure. I haven't told them yet."

"Well, either way, I'm sure they will be. Oh, that's really great, sis," Serah laughed, looking pleased. "I'm so happy for you."

Lightning looked slightly uncomfortable. She supposed it was kind of a big deal, though she'd drowned herself in work during the day to keep herself from wondering if the offering had been too impulsive. "I'm worried about Avery. You know how she feels."

Serah opened her mouth, but the muffled sound of Snow calling the girls to dinner interrupted her.

Light got up. "We can talk about this later. Dinner first."

* * *

Hope was home helping Vanille make dinner, both recounting the events of the day.

"What were you up to after I left Lebreau's?" Hope asked as he cleaned up leftover dishes from the previous evening. "Did you spend the day with Fang?" Fang was in the bathroom taking a shower.

"For a little while. She mostly got the tour around Oerba with Sazh and Dajh. I went back to the school." Vanille stirred a pot of stew, sampling delicately. "Hm, it tastes fine, though Fang will probably still dump an entire salt shaker in."

Hope laughed. "You know, when you mentioned how much Fang liked salt, I thought it had something to do about your cooking."

Vanille huffed indignantly. "Everybody at the orphanage liked my cooking. Even the younger kids, who were nearly impossible to please, they were so picky. It's just Fang that was... well. She just really likes salt."

"I like your cooking, too," Hope soothed. "Though you're awfully sensitive about it sometimes."

Vanille only angled him a look and took another sip. Hope grinned back and set the last dish down when Fang came down the stairs.

"Food smells good," Fang commented, not noticing Vanille's pointed look at Hope. "Dishes are here in this cabinet, right? I'll set the table."

"Just like old times," Vanille beamed at Fang. "At the orphanage, I mean. Except you're not covered in dirt and Maker knows whose blood."

Fang laughed. "That matron never let me muck up the dishes if I was like that." She snickered. "Matron did like all the game I brought in, though."

"What did you use to hunt with, Fang?" Hope wanted to know. "Your lance?"

"Sometimes. Bow and arrow was easier, though, especially during winter when the larger game migrated."

"I didn't know you could use a bow and arrow," Hope said, looking surprised. "I'd never seen you with one. No rifles?"

Fang shrugged. "Wasn't fond of those. Made too much noise and kids usually weren't allowed to touch 'em."

"Oh, right," Hope laughed sheepishly. "You were still a kid, but of course you'd be tromping around and hunting game bigger than yourself like it was nothing."

"That's Fang," Vanille said fondly. "Food's ready."

Hope carried dinner to the table and they sat down together.

Fang blinked in surprise as she chewed. "It's good."

Vanille rolled her eyes. "Of course it's good. Did you think I forgot how to cook?"

"No, not that. It's better." Fang swallowed and when she grinned, quick and easy, Vanille's breath caught at how young she looked. "But you need more practice," she declared.

Vanille huffed in outrage. "More practice-"

"It's okay, I'll help you practice," Fang said earnestly, her eyes wide and completely guileless. "I'll eat the rejects until you get it just right."

There was a loud thump, not dissimilar to the sound of a shoe making an unfriendly encounter with a shin, but Fang only grinned and dug into her food cheerfully.

Vanille rolled her eyes and tucked her feet back to her side. "What did you do today, Hope?" The redhead pointedly asked.

Taking the hint, Hope cleared his throat, though he was sure there was still a small smirk on his face. "Nothing much. Helped with the patrol, finished up some paperwork, helped Light get the latest squad prepped. Just an average day's work, really."

Fang looked up, interest clear in her eyes. "Is that what Light does? Train?"

Hope nodded. "It's part of it. Not all that she does, though. Most GC would see her on either the training field or locked up in her office or down in R and D."

"Does she still fight?"

Hope's brow furrowed. "You mean, does she still go out into the field? No, not so much anymore. Not because she can't, though. I think since she got promoted so fast, she just doesn't have the time anymore. Light's got a lot of projects she's overseeing now."

Fang nodded slowly, absorbing the information. She was so engrossed that she missed the looks Hope and Vanille exchanged: Hope's cocked brow and Vanille's knowing smile.

"I can tell you a bit more if you want," Hope offered. Vanille's smile widened when Fang's body subtly leaned forward, her expression eager.

"Well, if you don't think you or Light would mind..." her voice trailed off as she realized that it might be rude to gossip. Or pry for information.

"I'm sure Light wouldn't mind," Vanille assured her. "Besides, isn't it mostly common knowledge at GC anyway?"

Hope caught her look and smiled agreeably. "No, it's fine. To be honest, I don't know about everything Light does. She usually trains the specialized squads, sometimes fills in for new recruits if an instructor isn't available. I heard she was heading a few projects to get old Cocoon technology adapted to Pulse's atmosphere and working again, though I don't have any specifics."

Fang drank in the information as though it was her mission. It was exhilarating, oddly, to imagine Light training soldiers, working in labs and in an office. It was like another side to her that she'd never known. Well, Fang admitted to herself, of course she wouldn't have known. Light was a sergeant then, one who spent her time outside fighting Pulse beasts.

"Is Light's position important?" Fang asked hesitantly. "I heard that guy, the one with her earlier today, call her colonel."

"You mean Maxwell? That's her adjutant, her aide," Hope amended. "And yeah, Light's pretty important. Being a colonel is nothing to sneeze at," Hope chuckled. "It's higher than lieutenant anyway."

Fang felt a rush of warm pride fill her and she had to look away briefly to hide the faint blush of pleasure that colored her cheeks. Claire was someone needed, someone who did important things and made herself valuable. She blinked in surprise when she realized Hope was talking.

"-squad training has been coming along okay, though we're still struggling to hold back gorgon herds during spring. We've had to increase the number of contracts available for the extra help, but thankfully that'll be over soon."

"The Corps are pretty overworked during spring," Vanille said, looking sympathetic. "I've seen some bounty hunters in town and even they looked a bit worse for wear."

"Would it help if I took a job?" Both Hope and Vanille turned to Fang, surprise evident in their expressions.

"Well, you don't have to, Fang," Hope started.

"And it's pretty dangerous," Vanille added.

"I want to," she added firmly, "if it'll help."

Hope and Vanille exchanged looks.

"Are you sure, Fang?" Vanille asked gently.

"Of course I am," Fang replied, looking annoyed. "I said I want to help and I mean it. Besides, weren't you lot on me about getting a job earlier today? What's with the change of heart?"

"It's not that at all," Hope hastily added. "We don't want to force you into it, but the Corps would really benefit from your help."

Fang nodded as though the matter was settled. "Give me the details tomorrow. I'll be ready for the job whenever you are."

"Oh, it'll probably take a few days," Hope replied, stirring the food on his plate. "We'll have to put together a team for you."

Fang's head jerked up, her eyes narrowed. "I don't need a team."

"Just for some help," Hope said, his tone reassuring. "The Steppes can get pretty hectic and we never let anyone but a trained squad go out there."

Fang scowled. "They'll slow me down. I work alone. I don't need to babysit a squadron of prissy soldiers for a walk in the Steppes."

"They'll be well-trained, they won't slow you down," Hope protested.

"I don't care. You don't have to worry about me, I work alone. I'll be fine."

Hope shifted uncomfortably. Fang got the feeling there was something he didn't want to say, not outright anyway. "Fang, I really do have to insist that you bring a squad. At least _some_ back up," Hope pleaded.

"I'll be all right," Fang repeated. "You're acting strange. You know I'll be fine. You've seen me go on hunts before."

Hope finally relented. "Light will kill me if I let you go out there alone," he mumbled, avoiding her eyes. And wishing he wasn't the one telling her this.

Fang made an annoyed sound. "She knows I don't need one."

"You should tell her that," Hope muttered under his breath, not meaning for Fang to hear him.

"I will," the hunter said. "I'll tell her this weekend."

"This weekend?" The redhead looked at Fang curiously. "I don't think I heard you mention that you had something planned this weekend."

Fang suddenly flushed, the earlier argument forgotten. "I didn't mention it."

She fidgeted under the combined looks from Hope and Vanille. "Light said I could spend some time with her," she mumbled under her breath, her face almost scarlet with embarrassment. She'd wanted to keep the knowledge to herself a little longer, like a secret. It wasn't like she was going to hide it from anyone how overjoyed the invitation made her. Not at all.

"Oh!" Vanille clapped her hands together and smiled hugely. "I'm so happy for you, Fang! Is it just going to be you and Light? Oh, goodness, it's going to be like a date!"

"What? Date? N-no! It's not a date!" Fang blustered, her face on fire. "It's nothing like that!"

"We'll have to get you something really nice to wear! Oh, I wonder if any of those clothes we got you were nice enough. Where will you be going? Did you have a place planned?" Vanille asked, cheerfully running over Fang's protests with all the tact of a bulldozer.

"Van, wait, it's really not a date! I mean, we won't even be alone, ou-Light's -" Fang tried hard not to think about how close she came to saying 'our', "-kids will be there, Maker's sake." Any hope of quelling Vanille's thoughts of dates were crushed when the redhead squealed.

"You're going to see Light and the twins? Oh, this is so great! I'm so happy for you, Fang," Vanille cried, seizing Fang into a tight hug. "I know you just met them, but you're going to love them, they're such sweethearts. Oh, but I shouldn't tell you much about them, it's better if you find out on your own, right, Hope?"

Hope blinked, caught in the storm of Vanille's enthusiasm. He smiled agreeably. "I think so, too. You'll like them, Fang, if you don't already. I'm sure they'll love you. They're good kids."

Fang thought of the sweet smile Arial had shone her way and the furious glare the other one, Avery, had shot at her the day she met them. She tried to hold on to Hope's words against the sudden terrifying thought that they would not like her at all.

Vanille seemed to sense her sudden doubt and she smiled up at the hunter, her eyes warm. "Don't worry, Fang. I'm sure everything will be okay."

Fang managed a shaky smile back. "I hope so."

* * *

After dinner, Serah shooed Cally and the twins off to finish homework. Light idled around, listening to the sound of her sister speaking to Snow over washing dishes. She was dithering, she knew. It annoyed her that she was, so she marched up the stairs and found herself lingering at the threshold. A one blonde and a pair of pink heads were leaned over various surfaces, apparently completing school assignments. Light took a deep breath.

Ari looked up and saw her mother at the door. "Mom?" Avery glanced up as well, a questioning look on her face.

And without any effort at all, she smiled at the girls. "How's the homework coming?"

Avery shrugged. "It's okay."

"How's your history paper coming along?"

Avery scowled down at the holographic screen. Arial rolled her eyes at her sister.

"It isn't," she answered for her.

Avery turned her scowl to Ari. "Shut up."

Cally laughed. "She's been staring at the same blank page all night." Avery shot a glare at her cousin, who only turned back to her homework with a smirk.

Light settled beside Avery on her bed and flipped her textbook open. She glanced through the topics, smiling still. "How about I help you with some ideas?"

She glared resentfully at the blank page. "I know the topics," she muttered. "I just don't know why we have to write about it."

"Because it's good for you."

She looked dubious. "I think it's stupid."

"Yes, but you still have to do it." Light looked over at Ari. "Have you already finished your essay, sweetheart?"

"Last paragraph," Arial said smugly.

Avery's scowl darkened. "Show off," she said under her breath.

Light brushed her palm over Avery's head, gently tugging an errant lock of hair and quelled the squabble before it could begin. "Let's start here," she suggested, pointing to a passage.

After getting Avery started on her paper, Light knew she was stalling. Cally had already finished and left the room to speak with Serah and Arial had her head bent over her cell phone messaging a friend.

"Girls," she started. Two pairs of green eyes looked up. Somehow, she found her resolve in those eyes and steeled herself.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," she said. Something in her tone gave her away and Arial looked at her in almost heady anticipation while she was all too aware of the way Avery tensed, her expression becoming closed. Light unconsciously stroked her hand down Avery's back, trying to relax the stiff posture. The simplest and most forthright route, she decided, was best.

"For this weekend, we don't have any plans. Would you like to meet Fang?"

"Of course!" Arial exclaimed excitedly, almost bouncing on her seat. "Fang said it's okay? We can really meet her?"

Light smiled at her enthusiasm and nodded.

"We already met her," Avery muttered. Her shoulders were stiff, her face the complete opposite of her sister's. "Why do we need to do it again?"

"We're going to spend time with her, like really spend time with her," Arial said, her joy deflecting any assault upon it from her twin. "Where are we going to go? Did you decide where, Mom?"

Light shook her head. "Not yet. I'll need to speak with Fang again, but I'll tell you when I find out." She rubbed Avery's back, worried at her silence. "Do you not want to go?" She asked, even though she already knew the answer.

Avery kept her eyes on her screen, her fingers fiddling with the pen. "Not really." There was a storm brewing inside her chest, something that railed against seeing Fang, but something else that was at least curious and she tried to snuff it out. She didn't want to see Fang, she didn't want her family to see Fang, she didn't want anything to do with her because she should have just stayed asleep. Shouldn't have come back, she thought again, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from yelling at her mother because that wasn't right. Her mother hadn't done anything.

"Baby?" Light prodded gently. "If you really don't want to go, we don't have to."

She looked up at Light and saw blue eyes waiting patiently. There was the conflicting feelings again, glad that her mother wouldn't force her to go, but yet wanting her to.

"But I want to go see Fang," Arial protested, scowling now at Avery. "Just because Avy doesn't want to-" A single look from Light had her snapping her mouth shut, but still glaring resentfully at her twin.

Avery shifted uncomfortably. "Do you want to go?"

Light drew back, surprised. "Me?"

She nodded wordlessly.

Light sat back, frowning in thought. "Why do you ask?" She hedged.

"Because I guess if you and Ari really want to go, it's okay. I can go." Avery straightened her shoulders, looking like a general making a very grave decision. Light just managed to stifle the smile that rose at the image. "It's just a weekend," she added, as though to convince herself.

Light laughed and drew Avery's face against her shoulder, kissing the top of her head. "Then let's all go together, all right?" Light smiled at the muffled "okay" and caught the approving look on Arial's face. "We'll have fun. I'm sure of it."

* * *

The next day, Hope drove Fang to the Guardian Corps' headquarters.

"You should talk to Light about the squad thing fairly soon," he'd said, a faint smile on his face. "Knowing her, she's probably already putting together some guys. Also, we need to get some gear for you, too."

"Gear? I have my lance."

Hope had smiled and suggested she talk to Light again.

And with that, Fang found herself deposited in front of Light's office as Hope fled with some vague excuse about turning in his report. Fang could only frown at his back as he strode quickly away, wondering why he had been blushing.

"Ah, Fang is it?" Fang turned and saw that officer who had been with Light from the press conference. He had an easy smile on his handsome face, his uniform impeccably pressed, his hand held out. Fang scowled at it and did not take it.

Without missing a beat, he gestured to Light's office. "I'm afraid the colonel is not in her office today. I don't think we've been officially introduced. I am Lieutenant Maxwell, Colonel Farron's assistant."

Fang didn't like the casual way he said Light's name and kept her scowl on her face. "You're her assistant?" She tried to remember that he didn't like women. And preferred men. And she should not punch him because Light would probably not like that.

"That I am." He tilted his head and seemed to wait expectantly, his body relaxed as though he was not face to face with a hostile Yun.

Fang almost growled. "Where's Light?"

"The colonel is out on a training exercise," Maxwell said easily. From behind his easy demeanor he watched Fang with sparked interest. She certainly was very attractive, he thought, despite the belligerent manner. Or was it in spite of it? He almost smiled at the notion before he caught himself. He saw the way she eyed him, sizing him up as though he were an enemy soldier. Any other man would have quailed under such scrutiny, but Maxwell had endured much worse, especially with a superior like Colonel Lightning Farron.

"Would you like me to take you to her?" He offered, taking care to appear as much the helpful assistant that he was supposed to be.

Fang grunted affirmation. "I need to talk to her."

"Then I am at your service. If you'd follow me?" Maxwell started down the long corridor. Fang fell into step beside him, her posture slightly stiff. She was not short of stature and it irked her that he was taller. Fang wondered what Light saw in him.

As though he'd read her thoughts, Maxwell said, "The colonel has several duties, so I do apologize that she's not in her office today. I do try to assist in some of those duties, though I am regrettably inadequate in some."

The words were out before Fang could stop them. "What does Light do?" She remembered what Hope said about her duties, but wanted to hear it from Maxwell.

"The colonel is involved in several departments and projects, but her most, hm, prominent position is an instructor."

"She's primarily a trainer?"

Maxwell nodded. "Indeed. I believe she would prefer to be out in the field, but she would like to be closer to home for her family."

_The girls_, Fang thought. Of course. Light had to raise them alone. Never mind that Serah and Snow and Vanille were there, she had still been alone. Guilt and shame burned low in her gut.

Out of the corner of his eye, Maxwell saw the shadowed expression fall over Fang's face, but made no indication of it. _How interesting_, he thought, filing away the information. If he didn't know better, that was regret he'd just seen. It was not the colonel's duty to tell him every little detail about her relationship with the Yun, but it didn't make him any less nosy or curious. And the colonel was such an enigma, even though he'd worked with her for years, that any small detail about her past might as well have been a great revelation.

"She is also involved in other non-combat projects, as I said," Maxwell continued. "R and D sometimes, with salvaged technology on Cocoon and occasionally investigations when she is asked."

"Sounds like she does a little of everything."

"Something like that," Maxwell said. "Ah, here we are." They approached a set of double doors leading outside. Maxwell unlocked the doors with a code and led the way through a large bare field stamped flat from boots. Fang saw training equipment and obstacle courses placed at even distances from each other. Everything from gun racks and targets to rope tied to stripped tree trunks filled the field, with men practicing at each one.

"There's the colonel."

Fang's attention immediately snapped to where Maxwell pointed.

Light's back was to them, her attention focused on a squadron of soldiers in sweat-soaked shirts and khaki pants despite the relative cool spring morning. Light herself was dressed in a light leather jacket with the GC shield emblazoned on the back, similar khaki pants and boots. Sunglasses shielded her eyes, but her head was uncovered, her hair ruffling slightly in the wind. Her arms were crossed over her chest and Fang imagined her expression was forbidding from her tone.

"Dead. All of you. You know what happens to slow asses? Dead asses. I put you on the field and I'll be the laughingstock of the whole Corps. I do not teach soldiers to get out there and be meals for gorgon packs, I teach them to survive and make it back home with their asses _alive_. Now go run that course again before I knock you all down to traffic duty to escort little old ladies across the fucking street."

Even though the lashing was delivered without her ever raising her tone, Fang could feel the bite of it hit deep as though it'd been aimed at her. Beside her, Maxwell sighed. "Ah, there's the pride of the Corps, her sweet voice raising the spirits of all us lesser beings."

Light turned, recognizing Maxwell's voice. Surprise had her brows rising, the sunglasses still covering her eyes, but she quickly gathered herself. "Fang. I didn't know you were coming today."

Fang smiled awkwardly. "Hope thought it'd be good for me to talk to you about some things today."

"I see." Light glanced at Maxwell, who was watching the pair with avid interest. "Thank you for escorting Fang. You are dismissed, Lieutenant," she added pointedly. Maxwell merely grinned and threw up a smart salute, striding away back indoors.

Fang couldn't resist. "Why'd you pick him?"

Light turned to her with a questioning noise.

"That guy. He's a little strange."

"Maxwell?" Light hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose he is. He has his uses. He's quite good at what I need him to do."

Fang felt a faint thrum of jealousy and jammed her hands in her jacket pockets. "And what's that?" It came out sounding more hostile than what she'd meant and the corner of Light's mouth twitched.

"Secrets. He's good at keeping them and rooting them out." Light chuckled. "Granted, he is a gossip, but he knows when to keep quiet."

"Oh." Fang hunched her shoulders and felt small for challenging Light over something that she had no business with. "You trust him."

Light nodded. "I do. Well, after this long, I'd have to." She angled a look at Fang. "Did he say something to you?"

"No, I just... no, I'm just being stupid." Fang smiled again, feeling like a fool for being jealous. If Light trusted Maxwell, well, that didn't mean she had to trust him, but she could be less suspicious. But she'd keep an eye on him, all the same.

"All right. Well, since you're here, what do you think of this squad?" Light pointed to the men she'd been chastising earlier. "You've caught me at a bit of an inopportune time as I haven't been training them for very long. They'll get better, though."

Fang glanced over the squad, watching how quickly they ran laps, scaled high walls and crawled in the mud. "They're all right, I suppose. A bit slow, as you said earlier."

Light's mouth twitched again. "You heard me."

Fang grinned. "Can't really say what you said wasn't true. Traffic duty doesn't sound like great fun, though."

"It's quite safe. Also pretty boring." Light lifted her sunglasses up and perched them on her head. "You would despise it."

Fang found herself staring at those familiar eyes, remembering how she had admired the icy blues as they blinked at her sleepily. She realized she was staring and turned back to watch the squad. "Yeah, you know me. Danger and excitement get me going."

"Speaking of which, I heard you planned on completing a few contracts."

Fang stood up a little straighter, pride swelling in her chest. "I want to help, if that's all right." It was a bit more than wanting to help, though. Fang knew she had been absent for too long and that their relationship had changed. But she couldn't wallow about in self-pity. She had to _do_ something, something to prove that she wasn't just good for destroying things.

"Of course it'd help," Light said. "We've built up a fairly decent operation and method for dealing with the spring herds, though we're still a little undermanned. Accidents happen, too, especially when there are nests involved."

Fang nodded. "Dangerous on the Steppes during spring."

"Right. Anyway, I'm sure you have your own ways to do it, but I'm going to get this squad set up and get you the gear for it. It should be all ready in a few days," Light added, turning back to observe the training exercise.

Fang stiffened. "Squad? You're giving me a squad?"

Light was still watching a private panting like a bull after the run, making a note to cross him off the list of prospectives. She made a sound of affirmation and did not see Fang's reaction. "Yes. Not this group, of course. I have a better trained one lined up, hungry for action. Requisitions should have a standard gear pack for you and you're free to get anything else you might need."

Fang wasn't sure how to describe how she felt at that moment, but later on, when she wasn't feeling the sting of indignation, she would probably describe it as insult and something very close to hurt. Insult because Light assumed she needed help, like she'd gotten weak or something during her sleep, and hurt because it felt like a backhanded way of saying she wasn't worthy of... Fang refused to finish the thought.

"I don't need a squad."

Still Light did not sense the impending danger beside her. Afterwards, she would wonder how she could have missed it. Nothing was quite like a Yun with injured pride. "Oh, don't worry about it. They're seasoned veterans, they'll keep up with you."

"They'll slow me down," Fang said, struggling to keep her rising temper in check. "I don't need a damn squad to babysit."

Frowning at the unusually rough tone, Light turned back to Fang. "My men are well-trained," she said in a measured tone. "They're hardly green. They'll be your backup and they're quite competent." Almost defensively, she added, "I've trained all of them in some form or another."

Fang breathed in sharply, her hands clenching and unclenching. She heard her words and understood their meaning individually, but what came out of her mouth was: "I don't need your damn babysitters."

Light drew back as though she'd just been slapped. She was vaguely aware of her squad finishing the exercise and were probably waiting for further orders, but there was a dull hum in her ears as she stared at Fang. Green eyes glared back at her. Light sucked in an audible breath and closed her eyes briefly.

When they opened again, only sheer iron will kept Fang from taking a step back at the sight of pure glaciers looking back at her.

"Those men are decorated soldiers. Good, loyal soldiers who have taken every filthy, dangerous job because nobody else could-or would-do them. Don't you dare insult them."

Again, Fang understood the words and their meaning, but what got her hackles rising was the subtle, slithering threat lying beneath it. Light was threatening her. _Threatening her._

"I don't care if they're war heroes," Fang growled, her voice pitched low. Her head was pounding and the sound of unsheathing claws went unheard. "I can take care of myself and I don't need some bunch of Cocoon vipers-"

"Vipers!" Light's eyes narrowed, her jaw setting grimly in what Fang recognized as part of her fighting stance. "Listen well, Fang, because I won't say it again. Cocoon as it is today is different from the Cocoon from five hundred years ago. I don't care how you feel about it, that squad is going with you."

Fang bared her teeth back in a snarl and shoved herself toe to toe with Light, purposely invading her space. She didn't quite appreciate their differences in height, topping Light by about two inches, until now. And she saw by the way Light glared, forced to raise her gaze to meet hers, that it annoyed her at that moment. Fang almost smirked.

"I don't take orders from you, _colonel_," Fang sneered. It was really a magnificent sneer, full of disdain and utter arrogance. Fit only for a Yun, Light thought furiously, her ire given away only by the telltale twitch of an eyebrow. She wanted to wipe that sneer off Fang's face. It should have alarmed her that the options she was weighing was either a right jab or a nip on those full lips.

Instead, Light only smirked back, making Fang blink in confusion. "So be it, then. I do have to let you know, though, that I can keep you barred inside the town boundaries."

Fang grinned back humorlessly, sharp and full of teeth. "Your little walls can't keep me in."

"Oh, but you haven't seen our walls. They're not so large, but they can keep one little Yun penned in just fine." Light's smirk never left her face and her voice became just a little patronising. "I think it's in your best interests-and mine, of course-to take what's being offered."

"Doesn't sound like much of a choice, _colonel_," Fang growled, managing to instill the last word with such contempt that Light was certain her vision turned red. Had Fang been a soldier and spoken to her in such a tone, Light would have upbraided her so fast and hard Fang wouldn't have felt the upper layer of her skin for a week. And Light would probably boot her off to the most miserable position in GC, which was probably something along the lines of cleaning up trainee gear after drills. The thought of Fang on laundry detail had Light quirking the corner of her mouth in amusement and some of her anger dissipated. Fang blinked in confusion.

"You always have a choice, Fang," Light murmured. She tilted her head to the side and arched a brow questioningly. "You know, most people would be thankful for a squad of veteran GC soldiers to back them up out in the Steppes. There are a few contracts in the mines as well, to clear them up to open more transport lines. Those are even more dangerous, and that's not even considering the planned Paddra expedition taking place later."

Fang reared back her head, her fists on her hips. She hissed out a breath, struggling to control the clawing temper in her throat. _This was Light_, she thought. _She doesn't understand. I can't lose it with her. Never with her_. Finally, she said, "I can take care of myself. I don't need you to put your soldiers on me. I'm a damn _hunter_, Light. I've hunted these lands since I was eleven. I know the terrain like the back of my hand."

Light nodded once in acknowledgement. "I understand that, but these contracts aren't easy. Even the Corps has trouble managing them. My men can help you."

Fang was shaking her head already. "No. I work better alone. You know that."

"Not always." Light grabbed Fang's arm before she could pull away, ignoring the answering growl that rumbled from her. "No, don't turn away from me." Light kept her grip on her until Fang glared back resentfully.

"Fang, we're not l'Cie anymore." Light sighed and finally allowed some of what she felt show through. "We can't do the things we did before. That isn't a knock on your abilities, I know that you're good, that you're probably better than what any of the Corps has to offer, but on this I can't-god, I don't know how to say it." Light sighed again and aimed her eyes skyward, as though the answers were there. "I don't want you to get hurt." _Because I can't lose you again._

Her admission had both avoiding each other's eyes for several moments until Fang awkwardly cleared her throat. "I-I guess, if that's what you meant. It's all right. I just-it felt like you didn't trust me."

That had Light shaking her head. "No, never. I trust you the most." Light realized what she'd just said and both colored at the slip. Light also became aware that she was still holding Fang's arm, the jacket sleeve warm under her hand. _Fang never wore jackets. She never needed them._ _Fang was always impossibly warm, even when it was cold enough that our breaths frosted in the air. _She quickly released Fang, her fingers tingling ever so slightly from the loss of contact.

Fang smiled, almost shyly. "Were you really going to keep me locked up here?"

She laughed lightly, glad for the break in tension. "I don't know. That depends. Will you take the squad?"

Fang shrugged nonchalantly. "If they're as good as you say, I suppose it can't hurt to put them through their paces. The instant they slow me down, though, I'm booting them back here."

"Fair enough. I doubt it'll come to that, but I suppose we'll both see." Light smiled back.

Fang opened her mouth to reply, but something caught her attention. She glanced to the side and grinned. "Colonel, I think we have an audience."

The squad was still standing at attention and listening avidly as best they could to what was certainly an unusual occurrence: Colonel Farron apparently having a very intense argument with the Pulsian woman. However, after Fang mentioned their presence, the squad found themselves almost scorched to the bone by a blue-eyed and very haughty glare. They quivered in fear.

"Don't you all have things to do?" Light barked. The squad scrambled away at their commander's suggestion.

"Idiots," she muttered, a very faint pink tinge on her cheeks.

Fang smiled fondly at her, feeling her body relax entirely. Light caught her look and smiled back. They stood almost awkwardly together until Light broke the silence with a glance down at Fang's jacket.

"You never needed one before."

Fang shrugged. "Vanille wouldn't let me leave the house without it."

"Oh. I do the same with the girls."

Fang looked at her intently, her interest fired even more at the mention of her-their-daughters. "Not let them leave without jackets?"

"Yes. It's still chilly in the mornings, even if they get driven to school."

Fang looked wistful. "They have a school here?"

Light laughed. "Of course. It was one of the first things built."

Fang shook her head, still looking amazed. "You know, I was never much of a student. I snuck out a lot."

"So I gathered. I'm afraid the security's been upped a bit at ours, so the girls are there all day and a bit afterwards."

"Are they... are they good at it? School?"

Light tilted her head and smiled. "Why not ask them yourself? You are going to see them this weekend, aren't you?"

Fang's heart hitched and she had to breathe in deeply. "You talked to them? They said it would be okay?"

Light nodded, looking a little shy for just an instant. "Yes. They're fine with it. Ari... Arial is especially eager to meet you again."

"Oh." Fang had no idea how to expression the elation that filled her, so she only grinned at Light. "That's good. I'm really looking forward to it, too. Where are we going to meet?"

She chuckled now. "Well, since we're meeting you, I was going to leave it up to you."

Fang's eyes widened. "M-me? I pick?"

Light looked mischievous, a glint in her eye that made Fang want to panic. "Indeed. It's only fair, I think. I'm sure you have some old haunts you want to show them."

Fang almost started sputtering, but stopped herself. "Old haunts. Right. I'll... I'll come up with something."

"Excellent. I'll send you over a more definite time, but Saturday morning sounds good?"

Fang worked out the days in her head. "Saturday... that's two days from now. Um." Two days. Maker, she had two days and she was at a complete loss as to where to take the girls for a first time meeting. Or second was more accurate, she supposed. Fuck. "I think so."

Light almost reached out to pat Fang's shoulder in sympathy. "Well, I have some more work to do. I'll see you later." Light strode off, leaving Fang in a daze of joy and panic. It wasn't until later when Hope managed to track down Fang that she was able to leave the Guardian Corps.

* * *

Author's Note: I am not dead! I am, however, exceptionally busy with college and work, hence the (overlong) delay. My apologies to readers who've stuck with me and have been patient. Thanks for your support!

So, this chapter was sort of quiet and talky, though pretty long... Not a lot happened, but we're getting there! I hope it didn't bore everybody to death :( But leave a note or review on your thoughts/feelings/rantings/etc.

Once again, credit goes to E.G. Szyslak for her advice and help on this fic.


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